


Pathfinder

by SoBeIt123



Series: Pathfinder [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Being Rewritten, Canon-Typical Violence, Cities Will Be The Size Of Actual Cities, F/M, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Modern Girl in Skyrim, Not Following Quests To The Letter, Slow Burn, Taking Liberties With The Magic System, The Towns Will Be The Size Of Actual Towns, mods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:54:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 38
Words: 75,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23571913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoBeIt123/pseuds/SoBeIt123
Summary: Naya had never been one for the adventurous life. However, after waking up in a land full of dragons, magic, and mayhem, she knew that adventure would come knocking whether she liked it or not.CHAPTER 38 IS NOT A CHAPTER. Its a game plan concerning the rewrite.
Relationships: Male Dovahkiin | Dragonborn & Original Female Character(s), Male Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Original Female Character(s), Minor Savos Aren/Mirabelle Ervine
Series: Pathfinder [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2028065
Comments: 65
Kudos: 147





	1. Welcome to Skyrim - Naya I

**Author's Note:**

> I have no beta, so please inform me of grammatical errors. Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter six is where the story really begins to pick up.
> 
> 6/10/20 Edits - Grammar and Formatting errors.
> 
> 11/26/20 - This story is undergoing a rewrite. I'll be updating this up to a good stopping point, and then all of my attention will be on the rewrite.

Naya never thought much of the adventurous life, what with the uncertainty and risk inherent to the whole idea. After all, she had already had her fill of the uncertainty and risks in life. And up until this moment, she was content to live a nice, long, and quiet life until she died. 

_‘’Unfortunately_ ” she thought, as her car plummeted down towards the unforgiving waters below, _“It seems I’ll be settling for a short life instead.”_

Her car hit the bay. 

She sunk into darkness.

* * *

She woke to the sound of bird call. Her first thought - _I’m alive -_ her second - _Where am I?._

Naya shifted feeling the soft texture of a _bed?_ Sitting up with a jolt, she groaned in pain as the movement made her head throb. Putting a hand to her head she observed the room she was in. It was small, but rather cozy. The bed she was in was situated against a wall, by it there was a worn nightstand with peculiar pink and green bottles on it. Her gaze traveled along a few more pieces of furniture - a small table with chairs, a bookshelf filled to the brim - until it came to rest on a pane-less window, with the light of the dual moons streaming through it. 

Dual Moons?

Oh no. No, no, no.

She had to be hallucinating. Maybe she was seeing double.

Almost as if to mock her disbelief, what seemed to be Aurora Borealis appeared in the sky as she stared at the moons. Northern Lights. A thing that only tended to appear if one was in the far North or South and, judging by rather lush grass, warm air, and _was that a_ _goat she just saw?_ , she was definitely in neither of those places.

The door opened, startling Naya out of reverie. A slender woman with dark hair and pointed ears walked in. The woman - elf? - had a bowl of soup in her hand and seemed first surprised and then happy. 

The woman said something that Naya did not understand.

“ _T_ _hat does it. I’m certainly not in Kansas anymore.”_

* * *

Over the next few weeks Naya had achieved some rudimentary form of communication with her host who she found was named Yaevis. Fortunately, it seemed that common Cyrodillic - the language that she spoke- had some marked similarities to English. 

Naya was in a land called Skyrim. Her host was a Bosmer, one of the four races of Mer, the others being Altmer, Dunmer, and Orcsmer. There was also the Beastfolk, Khajiit and Argonian, along with the four mortal races Nord, Breton, Redgaurd and Imperial. 

Yaevis proved to be an extraordinarily kind woman. As she nursed Naya to health she had offered her home as a place to stay until Naya could get her bearings. Noticing Naya’s curiosity with the foreign plants and animals, she had even begun showing her some Alchemy. 

Naya was brought out of her thoughts as her host placed a plate of food in front of her.

“Thank you Yaevis” 

The language felt awkward on her tongue.

“I find way repay you”

“Naya, that’s not necessary. I don’t want repayment”

They had had this conversation many times before, and Naya was determined to prevail this time around.

“ I cook for you”

“ Naya, honestly it’s not-”

_“ I cook for you._ Want to feel useful. Please”

Yaevis’s hawk like gaze pierced her for a few moments before she, surprisingly, relented.

“I’ve noticed that you’ve seemed restless. If it will make you feel more at home, then alright”

A victorious smile crossed Naya’s face as she dug into her meal with the satisfaction of an disagreement well won.

* * *

They fell into an easy pattern. In the morning Naya would make breakfast out of whatever Yaevis had hunted down. Over breakfast, Yaevis would answer her questions about Tamriel and help her with her Cyrodillic. After breakfast Yaevis would leave the cottage to hunt, and sell her game to passersby. In the evenings they would eat dinner, and Naya would continue her lessons on Alchemy. All in all it was a quiet, simple, life.

However, the question remained. Why was Naya here? Who or what had sent her here? - And most importantly, would she ever be able to find her way home?

Despite Yaevis’s kindness, despite the beauty of her surroundings, and despite the simple quiet life Naya was living, she wanted to return home. To her quiet apartment, her job at the restaurant, to her friends and the remains of her family. She had never realized how much she had in her life, the privileges she enjoyed just by existing in a world that she could truly feel that she belonged in, a world that she called home. Even with all that she had been given, Naya found that she almost resented being here. 

To be perfectly honest, that resentment made her feel terrible. As though she was spitting in the face of Yaevis' kindness. So she buried the emotion, and never let it show. 

So, as the months went by, their easy pattern remained and Naya’s discontent grew.

* * *

It was a dark night when their pattern ended.

Naya was humming to herself as she carefully picked her way back to the cottage, using the slivers of moonlight peeking from behind the thick clouds to see. She had snuck out of the house to fill a flagon of water to make a late night drink.

As she approached the cottage some sort of premonition told her to hide, so she did, ducking behind some of the thick bushes surrounding the cottage. Water forgotten, she peered through the foliage just in time to see a heavily armored blond woman cut Yaevis down. 

Naya hurriedly clasped a hand to her lips to keep her horrified cry from escaping as tears sprang to her eyes. There were more bandits around the woman, some going into the cottage and others starting to look around the area. Naya knew that she should try to run, but she was frozen, staring at the remains of her only friend in this world. 

That woman had taken her in, clothed her, fed her, had been her only constant, and now she was dead.

The grief rose in Naya’s chest like the tide as she shook off her petrification and slowly started to creep away.

It was too late. 

A hand roughly grabbed her by the arm and hauled her to the nordic woman, pushing her roughly onto her knees in front of her.

“Well, well. It's my lucky day.”

Struggling against the grip hold her fast, Naya gasped out,

“What?”

“Sindrion _was_ looking for a mortal, not an elf.”

The magelight from one of the bandits illuminated her features as the woman rested her hand on Naya’s face, clearly enjoying the shiver of revulsion that it provoked.

“You will be coming with us”

The bandit holding Naya struck her on the head, making everything go black.

* * *

Once again, Naya awoke. 

This time not to birdsong and moonlight, but to the drip of water and the damp smell of must.

Looking down at herself, Naya was nauseated to find that one of the bandits must have changed her from her tunic to threadbare rags. She ached all over, her head most of all. She could feel a bruise forming on her arm from where that man had grabbed her. Sitting up on the cold, stone floor she stared with blank eyes into the musty hallway through the bars of her cell.

Tears formed in her eyes as she began to mourn the loss of the kindest woman she had ever known.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Welcome to Skyrim - Relthreyn I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All that effort for a cryptic note.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 6/10/20 Edits - Grammar and Formatting errors

For Relthreyn, risks and uncertainties were a part of life. Being the bastard son of a disgraced Ashlander woman had taught him that much. To him, life was one great journey full of twists and turns, one that could end at any time.

He thought his time had come as he stared up at the executioner's axe at Helegen, but apparently a giant terrifying dragon, of all things, had other plans. 

After that, he had known that his great journey was only just beginning. 

However, as he stared, shell shocked, at the now skeletal remains of Mirmulnir - _Allegiance Strong Hunt, he_ **_knew_ ** _, how did he know? -_ , the whispers of a war-chant echoing in his mind, cries of Dragonborn on the tongues of awestruck men, he knew that this great journey was far longer, and far more harrowing than he could have ever conceived.

* * *

He was to retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller. 

That was why he was in this damnable Nordic ruin crawling with draugr and Azura knows what else because, apparently, that's what it takes to be the Dragonborn.

As he crept through the ruin, his mind went back to the summons, the mighty cry of **‘DOVAHKIIN’** that shook the landscape. He was still in quiet awe in the power of the Greybeards, of how they could shape the world with merely the power of their voices.

Maybe Voices would be more appropriate. The power of the Thu’um.

He had only shouted once, at the Western Watchtower, but ever since then it was as if something inside of him had awakened. That presence within him had stirred at the cry of the Greybeards, a kind of instinctual aggression against those who had cried out his name. He had wanted to find those who had dared challenge him, to do battle, to dominate. This ruin had brought those urges to the fore as well. That wall engraved with jagged markings, it had called to him with that war-chant, and much like with Mirmulnir he had somehow absorbed something from it. 

**Feim**. 

_Fade._

He knew the word, but there was the feeling of something missing, something more that he had yet to acquire before he truly understood it.

Those urges, that seemed so foreign yet were so instinctual, those more than anything convinced him that there was something to the Dragonborn business that everyone was going on about.

_‘Dragonborn or not’_ He thought as he flambéd a skeleton, and then in one fluid motion turned to behead the dragur that was trying - and failing - to sneak up on him. ' _T_ _his_ _is absolutely ridiculous'_

Foes vanquished, Relthreyn observed the structure in from of him. There were a series of stones with odd looking markings engraved onto them, behind which were a series of doors with no discernible lever or pull chain around them. Now, being a veteran adventurer, Relthreyn figured that the stones had something to do with opening the doors. However, because he was, in fact, a veteran adventurer, he knew that there was a chance that the stones were a trap of some kind. In short, there was no way in Oblivion he was going anywhere near those things until he knew what they did.

Bending down he grabbed the charred skull of the rather unfortunate skeleton from earlier and tossed it between the stones. They lit up an eerie red, opening doors as they did. The doors immediately shut when the glow faded. It seemed that speed was of the essence here.

Fortunately, he had just the thing.

Taking a moment to brace himself, he _shouted_.

“ **WULD”**

* * *

He had to hand it to the ancient Nords, incredibly vexing ruins or not, their architecture was astounding.

The pillars, intricately carved and detailed rose from the water on some invisible signal, lined the pathway leading to the stately resting place of the founder of the Greybeards as if it were an honor guard. The grave itself was a work of art, mighty dragons hewn into the stone under an intricately engraved inscription in some ancient tongue, a stone hand rising from the apex. It was awe inspiring.

Not awe inspiring enough to keep him from looting absolutely everything that wasn’t nailed down but magnificent nonetheless.

In the rather beautifully sculpted hand there was a . . . note?

_Dragonborn--_

_I need to speak with you. Urgently. Rent the attic room at the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood, and I’ll meet you._

_\-- A friend_

He had just wasted Azura knows how much time for a **note.**

Quickly locating the exit, Relthryen stalked out, irritation surrounding him like a Flame Cloak.

He **_really_ **hated Nordic ruins.

At least he had gotten good loot out of this whole fiasco.

* * *

His first impression of Delphine was that she was a paranoid woman with the personality of an incredibly pissed off Spriggan Earth Mother. Judging by the fact that she wanted him to go Kynesgrove to slay a dragon after making him trek across Skyrim due to _her_ interference with _his_ initiation, his opinion wasn’t going to change anytime soon.

No way was he making that trip with her, he’d probably try to kill her in her sleep or poison her food out of sheer irritation.

For all of her faults Delphine was an excellent warrior. 

She had shown up to Kynesgrove unscathed from the no doubt dangerous journey and barely even faltered at the sight of Alduin who was somehow even more terrifying to behold when he was resurrecting a dragon as opposed to destroying a town. The sheer power needed to defy the grasp of death itself, to restore flesh, even if the soul hadn’t technically been severed from the body was nothing short of awe-inspiring.

He was supposed to fight _that_?

Without false modesty, Relthreyn knew that he was no slouch when it came to combat, but Alduin was a god, the first born of Akatosh himself.

Alduin he wasn’t sure about, but Sahloknir he could fight. 

The ensuing battle was hectic to say the least. 

Between trying frantically to keep the dragon away from Kynesgrove proper, and trying even more frantically to not die, he, Delphine, and the guards had their hands full. But in the end, they prevailed.

To Relthreyn, it was honestly a shame that he was to kill such majestic beings. The ones that were aggressive he would kill, and the ones that were peaceful he would avoid. Born Dragon Hunter or not, he was no genocidal maniac, and he had no intention of becoming one. 

Sah - Lok - Nir

_Phantom - Sky - Hunter._

And the ones that he would kill, he would at least honor by remembering. 

* * *

**"** ** _Lingrah krosis saraan Strundu'ul, voth nid balaan klov praan nau. Naal Thu'umu, mu ofan nii nu, Dovahkiin, naal suleyk do Kaan, naal suleyk do Shor, ahrk naal suleyk do Atmorasewuth. Meyz nu Ysmir, Dovahsebrom. Dahmaan daar rok._ ** **"**

He felt as if he were being shaken to pieces by the power of their Thu’um. But they acknowledged him, they believed in him, and that more than anything gave him the fortitude to withstand it. To have the recognition of a respected order such as the Greybeards was no little thing, and he wanted to surpass their expectations.

So he endured, and he overcame.

* * *

_Delphine wanted him to_ _infiltrate_ ** _where?!_**

Forget Spriggan Earth Mother, she was a thrice damned Dremora.

* * *

“Delphine.”

“Yes?”

“I set the Thalmor Embassy on fire.”

“ _What_.”

* * *

So, as it turns out, getting so angry that you absolutely lose your temper, calling upon The Wrath of the Ancestors in the process, and proceeding to use said Wrath to incinerate any and all in your way while in a partially wooden building, is an absolutely terrible idea.

He _had_ retrieved all the information needed and freed that unfortunate Imperial man, so at least some good came out of it.

Relthreyn had thought that he should disappear for a while, and cut off contact from Delphine until the heat - pardon the pun - died down a little. 

He didn’t like Delphine, but he didn’t actually want her dead. Yet.

Surprisingly, Delphine agreed with him and told him that she would contact him when it was safe. Well, safer. After all, he _did_ just burn down the Thalmor Embassy. After a stunt like that they were going to despise him until the end of time.

Couldn’t have happened to a better organization.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yea, the Thalmor reaallly don't like him now.


	3. Welcome to Skyrim - Naya II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter where the tags 'implied/referenced rape/non- con' and 'implied/referenced torture' come into play. If you would wish to skip it don't read between these symbols: $$$$$$$$$$$. There will be a summary of the section in the end chapter notes.
> 
> 6/11/20 Edits - Grammar and Formatting errors

**Naya II**

**$$$$$$$$**

Naya had no true idea of how long she had been here. The only way to gauge time was by the meals. She had been here for 24 of them.

A mage whom she assumed was Sindrion was very excited to see her. He had cast . . . something on her. A very painful something. He became very excited afterwards, saying something about her _‘unique lack of connection to Atherious’_ that she was a _‘rare specimen’_ and how it would be _‘vital to his research that they not kill her’._

Naya thought often of home. Of the life she had forged due to the kindness of Yaevis, and of the times from her true home that she still yearned for. Yaevis was gone, but her original world was not. It was still there, and if it was there she may be able to return to it, provided that she survived. That more than anything gave her hope.

She was visited by the bandits less than the other prisoners. She had noticed them after her initial shock and outpouring of grief. There was a sickly looking Bosmer man, a skeletal Dunmer woman, and a Breton woman who was not in much better condition.

The bandits came often to them to ‘sample their goods’, as they called it. The Bosmer died three meals in, the Breton after six. 

She was lucky, in a way, that she was a ‘rare specimen’. It meant that they were slightly less brutal on the occasions that they decided to ‘sample’ her.

* * *

After the 28th meal, the Dunmer died, and a regal looking Altmer woman was thrown into the cell next to Naya's. She, too, was apparently vital to Sindrion’s experiments, so she was to be kept alive. 

The two bandits that came most often were the Chief, a Nordic woman, and an Argonian male. With the deaths of the other two, they visited more. Naya honestly didn't know what was worse, seeing it happen, and being helpless to do a thing, wondering who was next, or experiencing it herself.

The regal Altmer was originally defiant, saying something about the Dominion, but she became more subdued as meals went on. Her meals were different, the Altmer was given some kind of dark, viscous, liquid that she was made to drink with every meal. 

Naya would reach out a hand through her bars in an attempt to give some kind of comfort to someone, and to maybe receive some in return.

Eventually, the Altmer reciprocated. 

When there was no one around they would clasp hands as if they were a life line. It was a heady experience, to feel a touch that was not a precursor to pain.

Naya never spoke. Her voice had died five meals in. The Altmer did. She spoke in a whisper, never seeming to want verbal acknowledgement. She spoke of her life before this, of home, of random stories, of magical theories, of anything really. 

She liked to think that her silent presence was as much as a comfort to the Altmer as the other woman's voice was to her.

* * *

Forty-Four meals in something changed.

Sindrion became more excited. He moved Naya and the Altmer woman into the same cell, and insisted that the bandits come around less. Naya was no mage, but it seemed as if he was trying to take something from the Altmer and transfer it to Naya herself. Judging by his excitement, he had reached a breakthrough.

The Altmer looked more pale and wane as time went on, like her very vitality was being drained from her.

Finally, Sindrion had them moved to a rather elaborate room, it seemed as if it were set up for some kind of ritual purpose. There was a very detailed pentagram drawn on the floor, with soul gems placed in and around with some kind of order that Naya could not discern. The Altmer woman on the other hand took one look at it, and looked horrified so she clearly had some idea of what was to happen.

The ritual that followed was invasive and painful. It was not a pain found in the body, though it was affected as well, but one of the soul. It was as if something was battered their way inside of the most fundamental parts of Naya, and rearranged it to their liking.

Naya could detect no discernible change of her body and mind, but her soul, her very life-force, had been warped and changed.

**$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$**

* * *

The Altmer was dying.

Naya knew it, and the elven woman knew it as well.

* * *

They had just finished their 49th meal -if the scraps they were given could even be called that- when the Altmer woman spoke. 

“I’m certain that most of them are asleep”

What?

Why did that matter?

The woman gestured for Naya to stand back. The Altmer’s hand became white hot flames, strangely silent flames with no tell-tale crackle or hum that Naya now knew usually came with magic, and she melted the lock on the cell.

If she could do that, why hadn’t she escaped sooner?

At Naya’s questioning look, the woman responded.

“They stopped giving me magicka poison after the ritual, probably thought I was too weak to cast spells. Come, I’m getting you out of here”

Naya grasped her extended hand, and the woman crept through their prison intent on escape. And it went well, until they reached the last room. Most of the bandits seemed to have congregated there for whatever reason.

The Altmer woman pulled Naya into an alcove and cast a sort of spell with a pale blue radiance on the both of them.

“I am going to distract them, and you are going to run.”

No! They were going to leave together, she wouldn’t leave the other woman to her death!

At Naya’s mutinous look the Altmer spoke in a hushed, impassioned whisper

“We both know that whatever that mage did is going to kill me. It's taking all I can to cast spells right now, and even if I weren’t, I would still insist on saving you. You have shown me kindness when you could have ignored me, reached out to give me comfort, and gave me a presence to lean on. I am dying, and I want you to live. So listen to me and run.”

At Naya’s stunned acquiesce the Altmer smiled grimly.

“So here is what we are going to do…”

* * *

Cloaked in an invisibility spell, Naya crouched in the shadows of the lively room, awaiting the other woman’s signal.

A fireball screamed across the room, impacting with the head of a lightly armored bandit, killing her instantly.

The Altemer woman strode into the room, shimmering with an odd sort of radiance.

All hell broke loose as Naya crept towards the door for freedom.

Naya kept her eyes on her destination, determinately ignoring her friend’s last stand. She would honor her friends wishes and live. She would grieve once she was free.

* * *

It near the mouth of the cave when things went wrong. Naya’s invisibility spell broke, revealing her form to the bandits.

Naya realized with a pang as she sprinted desperately towards the semi-barricaded exit that her friend must be dead if her spell had failed. The spell was supposed to last for three minutes, and it had only been two.

Naya sprinted past the barricade, bandits hot on her heels, arrows and the occasional spell narrowly missing her, seeking the woods where she could maybe lose them.

Bursting through the treeline she bowled straight into the chest of a man. Looking up she met a rather irritated pair of glowing red eyes.

Shit.

* * *

The man’s, the Dunmer’s actually, mouth opened before his head shot up at the cries of the bandits. He looked down at her fear-stricken face and asked,

“Were you running from them?”

Nay nodded vigorously, a vague feeling of hope budding in her chest.

“Bandits?”

She nodded again.

“You should probably stay behind me then.”

As Naya scrambled off the ground to find some cover, the man conjured a bow with a sound similar to a hammer striking an anvil, and proceeded to shoot an approaching bandit directly in the throat. The bandit collapsed with a gurgle, and the Dunmer smoothly dodged an ice spell and returned fire with his bow, expertly picking off the remaining three bandits.

He glanced at her.

“There are more inside.”

It was more of a statement than a question.

For a third time, Naya nodded.

With a nod, the man turned and strode into the bandit encampment.

After a beat, Naya slowly lurched onto shaky legs and followed the man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Naya is essentially a lab rat to a mage named Sindrion. During her time there, she manages to befriend an unnamed Altmer woman who is also a lab rat. Sindrion does something to Naya and the Altmer woman that gives Naya the sense that something about herself has been fundamentally changed.


	4. Welcome to Skyrim - Relthreyn II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Storming the castle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, I'm taking some artistic liberties with the magic system.
> 
> 6/11/20 Edits - Grammar and Formatting errors

**Relthreyn II**

Relthreyn was in the mountainous forests near Dragon Bridge.

Why he was anywhere near Solitude after pissing off the Aldmeri Dominion was a very long tale.

Long story short, after he had left Riverwood, he had been trying to make his way towards Riften to hide out for a while but had run into both a Thalmor Patrol and a Dragon at the same time. After narrowly avoiding death for what had to have been the millionth time after setting foot in this country he had promptly bolted south with the remains of the Patrol on his heels, ditched them and proceeded to backtrack in the opposite direction in an attempt to throw them off of his scent.

Hence, Dragon Bridge.

He was still going to try to go to Riften due to the lack of Imperial sentiment in that particular hold, but he was going to take an incredibly roundabout path to get there. Between the lack of love for the Empire, the lesser racist sentiment in that city, and the greater criminal element, he should be able to disappear, provided that he had the coin for it.

As he made his way through the mountainous region, he considered the implications of this Dragonborn business.

It was strange, having the nature and instincts of another species underneath his skin. It felt so foreign and at the same time so right. As time when on these new aggressive urges to possess, to hoard power, to grow stronger began to feel as natural as breathing. As he grew accustomed to it, the more comfortable he began to feel. He had felt as though he were missing something about himself for his entire life, and when his more Draconian nature began to awaken, he had gained that missing piece.

It scared him. Not because he had new instincts, but because giving into them felt so good.

At the Embassy, he had lost it because of his awakened nature. Relthreyn had control over the Wrath. Every Dunmer, be them male or female, young or old, had control over it. It was a useful weapon, but a dangerous one.

For all that their culture was reserved and distant, the Dunmer were very passionate people, and the Wrath was a reflection of that. The Ancestor's Wrath was a culmination of all the pain, anger, and passion, of the hot-blooded feelings that one usually restrained given form into fire that would burn all in its path. People, buildings, ward spells, it didn’t matter. It could be devoured by the flame. The more passionate one was the more powerful the flames were, and the more discipline you had the longer the flames would last. To use it at its most powerful, a perfect balance of passion and restraint was needed.

This new nature of his had shredded his restraint.

He already hated the Thalmor, but to see their atrocities himself, to read how they treated those that they perceived as ‘lesser’ and then to fight them, to have them challenge him?

He had lost it. And it had felt right.

That was the other reason he was in these lonely mountains. To regain some measure of control.

* * *

He was nearing a series of caves by a wooded area, when he heard a commotion in the distance. He could hear the rather crass yells of people -probably bandits- as they pursued something. Warily, he raised his hands to summon a conjuration spell, when a small form barreled directly into his chest.

He staggered a step back. Irritated, he looked down, a scathing comment on the tip of his tongue. His head shot up as he heard the cries of the maybe-bandits grow nearer. He looked back down. It was a woman. She appeared to be a Redgaurd, albeit a very petite one. She was slim, with black hair in tangles around her face. She was staring up at him with terrified copper eyes. 

She must be the ones the bandits were after.

“Were you running from them?”

The woman shook her head in confirmation.

“Bandits?”

She nodded again, curling into herself as if to hide.

Rage sparked within him.

“You should probably stay behind me then.”

The woman scrambled behind Relthreyn as he conjured a Bound Bow and shot an incoming bandit in the throat, killing her instantly. He then sidestepped an Icy Spear - they had to be at least semi-competent mages if they were throwing that around - as shot the caster between the eyes. There were two more rapidly approaching him, one with a greatsword and the other with a fire spell in hand. 

He shot greatsword bandit in the knee making him fall with a cry of agony, before ducking a firebolt and shooting the mage in the heart before finishing of the now begging greatsword bandit.

He turned back to the woman who was peering at him from behind a tree.

“There are more inside.”

For the third time the woman nodded. 

Resolve formed in his heart, Relthreyn strode into the cave that served as the bandit encampment. He heard a rustle in the foliage as the woman hesitantly followed him.

* * *

The first room was the scene of a nightmare.

Being sure to keep himself in the woman’s eyesight, he inspected the room further.

There were charred and electrocuted corpses, scorched walls, melting ice spears. It was a scene of devastation. Two corpses in particular seemed especially ravaged, the remains of a Nordic woman and an Argonian man. The woman, who he still hadn’t gotten the name of, approached a body that he hadn’t noticed yet. One of an Altmer woman, dressed in rags much like her own.

A fellow prisoner then.

A stricken expression crossed the woman's face at the sight of it as she gently brushed the eyes shut. In contrast, a look of vindictive satisfaction appeared when she beheld the rest of the room, eyes lingering on the Nord and Argonian.

“She was a friend of yours, then.” 

The woman jolted, a deer-in-bow sight look on her face.

“The Altmer, she was your friend.” At her confirmation, he continued. “We will bury her once we are done here.”

A look of gratitude appeared on her pallid features. 

As they made their way through the encampment the halls began to grow brighter, allowing Relthreyn to get a better look at his temporary companion. She was thin, far too thin to be able to make it through Skyrim without some kind of assistance. Her face, and what he could see of her arms held dark bruises and what appeared to be lightning burns, all in various stages of healing. Anger once again began to build in his chest when her hair and tattered clothes shifted with one of her movements revealing marks of a different kind.

He would never be able to continue with a clear conscience if he didn't see her to some kind of competent healer.

His silent companion seemed to pale as they arrived by a heavy wooden door. 

“Would you like to wait out here?”

She looked uncertain for a brief moment before she steeled herself, and shook her head. 

“Alright.” 

He was about to push open the door before a thought occurred to him.

“Do you mind if I cast Stoneflesh on you?”

At her look of wariness and confusion he elaborated,

“It will give you a form of magical armor.”

After a moment of thinking she acquiesced, and seemed to brace herself for something.

Summoning his magicka, he formed the spell in his hand and cast it on her, an ethereal radiance appearing on her skin. She seemed pleasantly surprised for a moment, and the wariness disappeared.

‘ _S_ _he_ _thought I was going to hurt her’_

Once again, anger rose within him as he pushed open the door.

* * *

There was a Breton muttering to himself inside, his back facing the door. He seemingly didn’t notice the two entering the room. Relthreyn readied a lightning spell when the Breton turned and struck out with an Icy Spear of his own. Dodging, Relthreyn gestured for the woman to find cover before turning to engage the man.

The mage was surprisingly powerful, refusing to let Relthreyn get close enough to engage him with steel, and forcing him to keep dodging Ice Spikes around bursts of lightning, keeping him from getting a hit in. Combat proficiency aside, the man was insane, raving about how he had found the secrets of immortality, and that he had discerned the unseen. As he fought the crazed mage, Relthryn saw the woman take a dagger and a journal from the table she was crouching behind, and give him a look.

The Dunmer dodged another Ice Spear before dual casting Flames at the man, forcing him to put up a ward spell. The Dunmer maneuvered the man so that his back was towards the woman the mage had apparently forgotten about, at least until she leapt out of her hiding place and put the dagger through his neck.

He dropped like a bag of rocks.

It was over.


	5. On The Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A NEW HAND TOUCHES THE BEACON

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edits - 6/20/20

**Naya - III**

They had made camp for the remainder of the night. Naya held Sindrion’s journal in her lap, trying to convince herself to read it

It had been a hectic day, to say the least. After Naya had stabbed Sindrion, she had promptly dropped the dagger and burst into tears, the events of the past however long finally catching up to her. From her abuse at the hands of the bandits, the experiments at the hands of Sindrion, the death of her Altmer friend, and the fact that she had _killed_ someone - even if he did deserve it - all came rushing out of her.

He was kind, the Dunmer man, who she now knew was named Relthreyn. After giving some amount of time, he had cleared his throat, cutting through her haze of emotions, and offered to bury her friend for her. At her acquiescence, they searched the cave - she found a shovel, and he an over sized tunic that Naya could wear in place of her rags. He had dug the grave for her, and then waited patiently as she grieved under his compassionate gaze.

After her mourning, he had waved her over to a small grove of trees and gestured for her to sit, as he started making camp. Eventually, night began to fall. As Relthreyn started a fire to ward off the cold, Naya mustered the courage to pull out the journal she had taken. With a deep breath, she opened the journal. She had to know what had been done to her.

As she flipped through the pages, Naya grew more and more horrified. What this man had done...what he had forced others to do, it was horrific.

And yet, she still felt guilt for killing him. Even on Earth she had been no stranger to death. She had shot a robber and watched him die before the ambulance she had called arrived but killing Sindrion was different. It was personal. She had killed him because he had hurt her, not because she had wanted to defend herself. She didn’t regret killing him but she still felt guilt over the act of taking a life.

Steeling herself once more, she flipped to the relevant section.

_2 Tirdas, First Seed, 4E 202._

_I’ve done it. I’ve taken the life force of an Altmer Mage and transferred it to that of a mortal, and even more, a mortal unconnected to Aetherious! It was unfortunate that the ritual caused the Altmer to fade, good ingredients are hard to come by._

_That mortal woman…..a Worldstrider, she has to be, it is the only way. Only those from different realms can be unconnected to Aetherious. And to have one fall into my lap like this, it was perfect._

_If the transfer can happen so successfully to a Worldstrider, one with no connection to Nirn, then it will take even better to one of this realm! I must keep her, I can only imagine the breakthroughs I can make with her. Doesn't hurt that she’s so easy on the eyes…..perhaps I can find other uses for her as well…._

Sickened, dropped the journal like it was a venomous snake. She buried her face into her hands, and wept.

It wasn’t Sindrion’s thoughts about her body that got to her. No, she figured that out from the lingering gaze and hands. It was that his experiments were a success.

The mer lived for hundreds of years, the Altmer longest of all.

She could never go home again.

Even if there was a way to make it back - which there probably was judging by the fact that there was a name for her displacement - even if there was a way, she couldn’t take it. She would simply live too long. If she went back, she would outlive everyone, her friends, her family, every one. If someone found out about it and coveted it..no, she could never go back home.

There was a rustle of leather and metal, interrupting her from her grief. Relthreyn was giving her a concerned look. She waved her hand at the journal, inviting him to read it. It wasn’t like he didn’t know what happened to her, so who was she to care if he read it?

As he flipped through the pages, she stared into the crackling flames.

“Do you want this?”

Naya shook her head. She had gotten what she needed from it and had no desire to see the accursed thing ever again. She startled back as the journal was tossed into the flames. 

“Then there's no reason for that to be around for anyone who gets their hands on it to read. No one deserves that.”

A feeling of gratitude rose in her chest as she bowed her head in thanks.

After a few more moments of them both staring at the journal being greedily devoured by the flames, he remarked,

“A man like that wanted to be immortal, to be remembered. Let him die with his journal." Silence fell in the campsite and Naya stared into the crackling flames of the fire, feeling too empty to do anything other that exist. The silence was broken by Relthreyn's quiet voice. "If you can, try to get some rest. I’ll try to find a healer for you tomorrow.”

* * *

**Relthreyn III**

As it turns out, finding a healer while you were on the run was just about impossible. After spending more time than he wanted searching for one, caring for the still mute woman himself, he had finally cracked and told her what exactly she had gotten herself into.

She had stared at him for a few seconds before very deliberately moving closer to him so that she was just inside his reaching distance thereby making her opinion very clear.

Pragmatically speaking, having a woman recovering from torture travelling with him as he dodged the law was a liability to both of them. He couldn’t move as fast as when he was by himself, and he had a person to defend as it became vastly clear over the ensuing days that she only had a rudimentary knowledge on how to use a dagger for anything but skinning and gutting an animal. She would be healing much faster if she wasn’t constantly on the move, and wasn’t in the presence of someone with the same proficiency in restoration as some wet behind the ears apprentice mage. 

But, in spite of all logic, he couldn’t bring himself to make her leave.

It was comforting, not being alone.

She wasn’t as wounded as he originally thought she’d be and reading that journal explained why. That mage hadn’t wanted his ‘research materials’ to be damaged beyond repair. Relthreyn was no Restoration mage, but his mother certainly was so he at least knew how to care for someone without much need of magic. Right now it looked like a few sessions of Healing Hands in addition to a modified potion of regeneration - coincidentally the only potion he could make with any real sort of effectiveness - would do the trick.

The woman wasn’t the worst travelling companion either. It was true that she could barely wield her dagger but she was a fairly proficient huntress and a decent alchemist. It was surprising, her ability in alchemy, because according to that mage’s journal she was a Worldstrider. Someone who had crossed the boundaries of dimensions and landed in a world not their own. Worldstrding was something he had only thought was a legend, something only found in children’s tales. Then again, he had thought the same for dragons. 

It was a rainy, dreary day the first time she spoke to him.

They had taken shelter from the rain in a shallow hollow carved out of the mountainside.

Relthreyn had conjured flames in his hands to keep them warm and dry. After some moments of contemplative silence, the woman opened her mouth as if to speak. After a few more tries she did, her voice emerging in a whisper, hoarse and rusty from disuse.

“Thank you. For this.” She made a sweeping gesture with her arm. Pausing, she swallowed before continuing, 

“My name. It’s Naya.”

She had a rather peculiar accent. It was as if all the letters she formed were leaning up against one another before escaping her lips in a mellow sort of drawl.

Relthryen studied her for a moment about to respond before lightning flashed across the sky shaking them out of their moment.

They needed to find better shelter. The only place near enough to go was Deepwood Redoubt, an old Nordic ruin that boasted a passageway through the mountains. The only problem was that it was crawling with very hostile Forsworn, meaning that they would end up fighting their way in. He told his companion as much.

Unfortunately it looked like the rain was about to come down harder, so they didn’t have much of a choice. Between fighting Forsworn and having no shelter in the middle of a mountain during a thunderstorm, he’d take Forsworn any day.

* * *

He was right. The Forsworn were hostile.

They arrived just as the storm began to pick up. The Forsworn guarding the entrance were taking shelter in the various tents and stone shelters dotting the landscape in front of the ruin. He and Naya managed to slip inside unseen during the commotion.

Inside was an entirely different story. The Forsworn could give Delphine lessons on paranoia, the place was so heavily trapped. Exploding pots, bear traps, elemental runes, pressure plates, every type of trap he had ever seen and more. It was a wonder they managed to live in the place without stumbling into a trap and dying. Fortunately the first room had a high ledge accessible from the ground that offered a great spot for sniping. Ushering Naya up ahead of him, he conjured him bow, took aim, and proceed to do just that. One Forsworn ran out of the room into a hallway before Relthreyn could hit him, activating a swinging blade trap and dying.

Apparently they did bumble into their own traps and die in the process.

At least he and Naya were out of the rain.

* * *

**Naya IV**

As she was led through the fortress by Relthreyn, Naya learned two very important things about her travel companion. First, he was very efficient at killing things, always taking the quickest route possible to victory. Second, the man was a complete kleptomaniac.

They went into every single room, looted every single corpse, and just generally left no stone unturned. How that man fit so many things on his person, she would never know.

Naya ducked away from the swing of a sword as one of the three Forsworn in the room went after her, Relthreyn engaging the other two. Dodging the next strike and deflecting the following one with her dagger, Naya deliberately triggered the pressure plate behind her and dove for the floor so that the activated poison darts killed her assailant. Pushing herself up, she watched Relthreyn cut down his last opponent before he began to search the room for valuables.

The Forsworn themselves were less of a problem then she thought they’d be. Relthreyn usually shot as many as he could before engaging them with a flame spell and an one handed axe he had looted from one of their fallen foes. At this point, Naya was good enough with her dagger to fend off the few attackers that went for her until her more threatening companion was able to take care of it. It seemed that a mix of deflecting, dodging, and tricking her opponents into traps was the best way to stay alive.

Eventually, they reached the end of the fortress and stepped out into a beautiful wooded area where it was (thankfully) no longer raining but (sadly) also swarming with Forsworn. After cutting through the Forsworn they made it to a door that opened to yet another Nordic ruin.

Creeping inside they spotted two women in mage robes and one bird-woman thing wearing a very revealing dress. Her companion cursed under his breath.

“Damn. Hagraven.” He turned to look at her and whispered, “I’m going to need you to distract the witch while I deal with the hagraven, I don’t fancy fighting all three at once.”

Turning back to their opponents, he lifted his bow, which he had conjured shortly before they entered the building, and shot one witch in the heart. She collapsed in a heap, and the other two immediately spotted them and cast a stream of flames at Relthreyn who quickly cast a ward.

“Ready?”

Naya nodded her assent.

The witch was fond of ice spikes, which Naya appreciated because they were one of the easier to dodge spells. Being sure to keep moving to avoid becoming an easy target, Naya slowly but surely brought herself closer and closer to the witch. When she was almost in reach of Naya's dagger, they were both distracted by a loud curse from Relthreyn as the hagraven ran deeper into the fort, summoning frostbite spiders and skeevers to cover her retreat. Recovering first, Naya quickly leapt forward to kill her opponent in one fluid strike. She now knew that in this new world of hers killing was an unfortunate fact of life, and that wavering would mean her own death. She didn’t hesitate to bury her dagger in the witch's neck. 

The next hour or so was a very frustrating mix of engaging the hagraven, Relthreyn almost killing her, the hagraven retreating and summoning creatures that she and Relthreyn would then have to fight their way through to get to her, only for the who affair to repeat itself again.

Finally they made it to an outdoors area that held an altar with a dagger on it, a very large wall with jagged carvings in it, and an ornate chest.

Relthreyn - who looked one hundred and ten percent done with the hagraven at this point - actually threw his axe at her like it was a tomahawk, embedding it into the hagraven’s shoulder. At her shriek of pain, he _shouted_ , somehow dashing forward almost faster than her eye could see and shot a fireball directly into her face, finally killing her.

What was that shouting he just did?

When he stepped away from the smoldering corpse to Naya’s confused gaze, he just rubbed his forehead like he had a headache and promised to explain when they set up camp. With one more long stare Naya agreed.

Relthreyn turned to go inspect the wall with jagged carving as Naya turned to the ornate chest opening it. It had some gold, some alchemy ingredients, an axe made of some shoddy looking material, and a strange orb that resembled a very large golf ball of all things that glowed slightly with a kind of inner radiance.

No way was Naya touching that.

Turning the Relthreyn who was turning away from the wall with a dazed look on his face - more questions for later then- she whistled to get his attention and gestured towards the chest.

Jogging over, absentmindedly grabbing the dagger on the altar as he passed it, he looked into it and immediately spotted the orb.

“I have no idea what that is.”

Taking closer look he continued,

“Doesn't seem to be dangerous though….here help me get it out.”

They reached into the chest and grabbed it, and then immediately dropped it as a stately feminine voice proclaimed, “ **A new hand touches the beacon.”**


	6. The Break of Dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter where things really begin to pick up

**Relthreyn IV**

Once again, Relthreyn was travelling in close proximity to Solitude. Unfortunately, one did not deny the wishes of Daedric Princes if they wanted to live through the next five minutes so, to Mt. Kilkreath he would go. Meridia had commanded them to go and purify a temple. Her temple. Which was was a day's ride from the Thalmor Embassy. He was very much not looking forward to this.

But he had more pressing concerns right now. Relthreyn had noticed that after they had left the Forsworn encampment Naya started to make a wheezing sound that got progressively worse in the last hour before they had stopped and made camp for the night. His concern amped up when she practically collapsed on to the ground and began to take in deep lungfuls of air. She may have contacted Rattles or some other disease from the traps he noticed her leading Forsworn into while they were inside the encampment. She hadn’t been completely unscathed, he had healed her of some minor abrasions before they had left.

“Were you cut by any of the traps in the ruin?”

Naya looked at him quizzically.

“Your breath. You may have contracted Rattles or some other disease.”

A look of comprehension came over her face, before she shook her head and reached into her knapsack to show him an empty vial of a potion of cure disease. She closed her eyes and took a strained breath before she spoke,

“Chronic disease. Asthma. Its incurable.”

Incurable. Now he was even more concerned. Asthma? He had never heard of that before. The look on his face must of told her something because she continued through wheezes,

“Not severe. The rain. Made it flair. Need warmth.”

Well. Warmth he could do. Breathing deep, he focused on his Wrath and slowly let the barest bit come to the surface, noticeably heating the air around him. He slowly moved closer to her looking for an indication that she did not want him near her. He had noticed that about her, on the very rare occasions that they came across someone in the wilds that didn't want to rob or kill them. She had always kept them in her line of sight and never let them get within reaching distance of her. She had become more comfortable with him as time went on, but they never had more contact than was strictly necessary.

She opened one eye and stared at him for a second before simply saying “My back” before closing it again and visibly turning her attention to her rhythmic deep breathing.

He sat close beside her and lay a hand on her upper back, where the lungs were. There was silence for a moment before he started to speak. She wasn’t from this world so he would start with the legend of the Dragonborn.

“There is a legend of a hero with the blood and soul of a dragon, but the body of a mortal. They were said the be the only being that could permanently kill a dragon for the Dragonborn has the ability to absorb the very essence of the dragon itself, leaving it with no ability to be resurrected.

I was at Helgen when the great dragon Alduin decimated it, and I fled the city with the help of a Stormcloak rebel. I made my way to Whiterun and told the Jarl Balgruf the news. The jarl was very kind, providing me with a meal and bed before I set off to Bleak Falls Barrow to retrieve an artifact at the behest of his court mage Farengar. When I arrived back a dragon attacked the Western Watchtower of the city. It was named Mirmulnir, The Loyal Strong Hunter. He was slain. After he fell, his flesh burned off into a golden fiery radiance, and I absorbed it…”

As he continued his story, Naya slowly relaxed, letting his body bear the slight weight of hers.

* * *

**Naya V**

According to Relthreyn they were only about half a day away from the statue to Meridia, the one that had spoke to them and commanded them to clear her temple. As they had drawn nearer to Mt. Kilkreath, and coincidentally Solitude, Relthreyn had become more and more wary of their surroundings. And he had good reason to, considering the story he had told her last night. It sounded like he had made an enemy of the entire Aldmeri Dominion with that stunt.

Her breathing was better now, with only a slight wheeze every now and then after his help - her face heated as she remembered it. Regardless of her embarrassment, she was feeling better, and she did appreciate the help.

They arrived at a set of stone stairs, and stated their ascent.

As they climbed higher, the temple came into view. It was a beautiful, but decaying place. Naya could see remnants of its former glory in the once proud arches curving over the stairs and the beautiful, crumbling temple, once intricately formed and designed, whose doors were emanating an unpleasant black miasma.

**“Look at my temple, lying in ruins. So much for the constancy of mortals, their crafts and their hearts. If they love me not, how can my love reach them?”**

Naya started, and almost ran into Relthreyn as Meridia started speaking. 

Holy hell, that being had no inside voice. She didn’t know how, but Meridia managed to practically deafen her even though she was speaking into their minds.

As they pressed onward they approached a raised staircase leading to an ornate statue. The statue was a work of art, a beautifully carved depiction of a winged, stately woman in a hooded robe, her face and hands raised to the sky as if she were beholding something.

**“Restore my beacon, that I might guide you toward your destiny.”**

Exchanging a glance with Relthreyn, they both approached a small stone basin at the fit of the statue, carved in the image of two hooded women with their hands held out in supplication. Relthreyn reached into his knapsack and placed the Beacon into the basin where it glowed and started floating upwards.

Naya let out a cry of surprise and fear as she and Relthreyn rose with it. At the apex of their ascent they were met with a large white light.

**“It is time for my splendor to return to Skyrim. But the token of my truth remains buried in the ruins of my once great temple, now tainted by a profane darkness skittering within. The Necromancer Malkoran defiles my shrine with vile corruptions, trapping lost souls left in the wake of this war to do his bidding. Worse still, he uses the power stored in my own token to fuel his foul deeds. I have brought you here, mortals, to be my champions. You will enter my temple, retrieve my artifact, and destroy the defiler.”**

Relthreyn spoke, his curiosity overriding his sense.

“What is the artifact?”

**“Mortals call it Dawnbreaker, for it was forged in a holy light that breaks upon my foes, burning away corruption and false life. You will enter my shrine, destroy Malkoran, and retrieve this mighty blade.”**

Relthreyn exchanged a glance with her, and answered for both of them.

“We’ll do it.”

**“Of course you will. I have commanded it! Go now, the artifact must be reclaimed and Malkoran destroyed. Malkoran has forced the doors shut. But this is _my_ temple, and it responds to _my_ decree. I will send down a ray of light. Guide this light through my temple and its doors will open.”**

With this final decree, Meridia lowered them to the ground. 

They made their way to the now opened doors of the temple and walked inside.

* * *

**Relthreyn V**

Standing protectively over Naya’s crumpled form, Relthreyn was alight with Wrath, using Naya’s dagger and his Flames to take chunks out of the now very crispy shade of Malkoran, who was fighting desperately for its unlife.

Meridia’s temple had been terrible from the moment they had set foot in it. The temple had the sickly sweet, pungent smell of rot and decay emanating from the desecrated corpses littering the floor, the miasma making the air thick and difficult to breathe in. To his concern Relthreyn saw Naya rub her chest, her breaths becoming audible as they moved through the once glorious temple.

Damn. That lung sickness she had couldn’t have been doing her any favors. He felt a spike of anger towards the necromancer for poisoning his partner so. Digging around in his knapsack, he grabbed a cloth and wrapped it around his lower face for some form of protection against the air, and handed Naya another so she could do the same. Giving him a grateful smile, she quickly copied his actions. Her breaths grew only slightly less ragged.

They had to move quickly. 

Rapidly approaching the first room, he spotted an orb similar to the Beacon set in a moldering pedestal, rays of light shining from it. He and Naya made a beeline towards the thing, their approach activating the pedestal, a ray reflecting off of it leading deeper into the temple.

The next room was much the same, only with the addition of three wispy corrupted shades garbed in a dark mockery of the armor they had worn in life. He and Naya had made quick work of the three, their forms collapsing into an oily puddle of ectoplasm that emanated an unpleasant odor and an even more noxious miasma. As Relthreyn moved forwards to activate the pedestal situated on the dais, Naya broke into a series of painful sound coughs. He abandoned the pedestal and pulled her away from the miasma emanating from the ectoplasm, using flames to burn the worst of it away.

“Will you be able to make it to the Necromancer?”

Taking in deep gulps of the partially cleansed air, she nodded shakily.

“I’ll be fine. Let’s move quickly.”

His dragon soul raging at the sight of his companion’s pain, he turned and led the way through the temple. He was going to enjoy killing this Malkoran.

Their journey through the temple continued in much the same vein, with Naya’s lungs growing worse and Relthreyn’s temper growing hotter with every hoarse breath she took.

When they stood before the door to the room containing the necromancer, Naya spoke.

“You distract, I sneak?”

It sounded like a good plan to him. The sound of the battle would cover any sound she made, and he didn’t want to subject Naya to open combat in the condition she was in. It was bad enough that they were breathing in poisonous air, he didn’t want the physical exertion required for combat to exacerbate her laboring lungs. Necromancers required much stamina to fight because of their propensity to keep their distance and swarm their opponents with corpses, and he would bet his last septim that Malkoran was of the same stock. Undead had all the observational prowess of a rock, so as long as he kept Malkoran’s attention away from Naya, it would work out.

At his nod, Naya melted into the shadows of the dim hall and Relthreyn cast ironflesh on himself as he burst through the door. 

While the shades were easily dealt with, the Necromancer was a whole different story.

Malkoran was a veryskilled opponent, but so was Relthreyn. As they fought, he ensured that the Necromancer's back stayed to Naya as she crept through the room. Keeping his attention wasn’t a terribly difficult task and he just needed to wear down the necromancer's ebonyflesh spell so Naya could strike. Irritatingly enough, Malkoran summoned yet another shade to fight with him. Relthreyn stunned Malkorn with an overcharged firebolt and whirled to block a strike from the shade that would have beheaded him, _shouting_ **FUS** to force the lich across the room.

Fortunately, Malkoran favored fire spells with the occasional ice spike thrown in for flavor so Relthreyn wasn’t too terribly affected by his magic when he got a hit in. As he prepared a lighting spell in his free hand, Malkorn shot both an ice spike and firebolt at Relthreyn to force him back. Relthreyn deflected the ice spike with his axe and deliberately took the firebolt to the shoulder so that he could get in closer. Gritting his teeth against the pain of the impact, he struck Malkoran’s magical armor with his pilfered Forsworn axe, breaking the blade from the shaft in the process, and discharged an overcharged lightning bolt directly into Malkorn’s chest, the burst of turquoise light signifying the break in his spell.

As Malkoran staggered back by the pillar where Naya was hiding, Relthreyn turned to engage the shade that had staggered back over for a second round. At Malkoran’s approach, Naya burst out of her hiding spot and neatly stabbed Malkoran in the heart through his back.

Naya approached him as he finished the shade off, opening her mouth to speak before her eyes widened and she pushed him to the side, collapsing to the floor as she took a sickly yellow spell directly to her chest, dagger clattering to the ground beside her.

Fury and fear raced through Relthreyn's body as he ran to engage the shade that had risen from Malkorn's corpse. He melted an ice spike with an overcharged firebolt, the spell continuing on to strike the shade, forcing it away from Naya’s unconscious form, using the opportunity to arm himself with Naya’s dagger.

His dragon soul raged to the forefront of his mind as his body burst into white-hot flames.

He _shouted_ ‘ **WULD** ’, dashing towards Malkoran, faster than the shade could respond, burying Naya’s now cherry red dagger in its skull and simply burning the rest of the lich away until there was nothing but ashes.

Flames sputtering out, her ran to Naya, falling on his knees beside her, desperately casting healing hands on her. He scrambled for his knapsack pulling out a potion of regeneration and a potion of cure disease, pouring them into her mouth, massaging her throat to make them go down.

Her breathing deepend and her eyes fluttered open.

Relief crashed over him. Thank Azura.

Her voice was scratchy.

“What happened?”

His adrenaline faded, the aches and pains of his own wounds making themselves known.

“I’ll tell you when we get out of here, let's get that damn sword and leave.”

As if on cue a voice echoed through the room

**“It is done. The defiler is defeated. Take Dawnbreaker from its pedestal.”**

Helping Naya to her feet, he looped an arm around her waist to support her as they made their way to Dawnbreaker.

Still holding her to his ride, he reached out and drew the sword from its pedestal.

Their world went white.

* * *

He came back to his senses, Naya still grasped in his arm, hovering above Skyrim with Meridia before them as a ball of light.

**“Malkoran is vanquished. Skyrim’s dead shall remain at rest. This is as it should be. This is because of you both. A new day is dawning, and you both shall be its heralds. Dragonborn, take the mighty Dawnbreaker, and with it purge corruption from the dark corners of the world. Wield it in my name, that my influence may grow.”**

In spite of his intense hatred for this whole affair, Relthreyn had no desire to anger a Daedric Prince so he went with the safe response.

“I will wield this blade in your name.”

**“May the light of certitude guide your efforts.”**

The light then seemed to consider Naya.

**“And you, Worldstrider, I will forge in you a connection to Aetherious so that you may become a true inhabitant of Nirn. Furthermore, I will bestow upon you my blessing. With it you will shine a light of healing upon those damaged by the depravity of this realm.** **You shall both be** **beacons** **of my glorious light.”**

With that final statement Meridia vanished and they were gently lowered to the ground.

* * *

In the gentle light of the dawn, Relthreyn was awoken by Naya’s panicked gaze and choked off breaths.

  
  



	7. Fading

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See notes at end for translation.

**Relthreyn VI**

Relthreyn dashed over to her potion of stamina in hand, shushing her panicked vocalizations. Potions of stamina worked by giving a slight energy rush to invigorate the drinker. Hopefully, that would help clear out her lungs. He quickly warmed his body to ward her from the chill of the morning.

He needed to get her to a healer.

That spell that hit her had to have been a death curse. He was a fool for not realizing sooner. Neromancers powerful enough to turn themselves into a lich could fashion death curses, a spell powered by their soul instead of by Atherious. With the exception of racial abilities like Battle Cry or Ancestor's Wrath, tapping into your own soul would mean death, but if one was a lich, it merely meant that you were slightly diminished for a time.

The nearest town he could go to was Dragon Bridge. It was a risk due to its proximity to Solitude, but he didn’t really care about avoiding Thalmor now.

First, he needed a horse.

Thankfully, the Divines didn’t completely hate him, as he was soon attacked by a horse-riding highway man. Probably thought he would be easy pickings with him carrying a semi-conscious woman in his arms. After quickly disposing of the man, he mounted the horse, Naya settled in front of him. Her back was pressed against his still unnaturally warm chest and she was just lucid enough to stay atop the horse. It would be difficult, keeping his Wrath active to ward of the chill of the death course, but he would manage. He had to.

Staying as close to the main road as he could without being in plain sight, He set off for Dragon Bridge at the quickest pace he could manage.

* * *

It was nearing dusk when he arrived. He dismounted his stolen horse, and carefully hefted Naya off the animal. To his steadily mounting horror she had worsened as the day went on, finally falling unconscious when they were only minuets out from the town. Her breathing was shallow and labored, lips slowly turning blue from lack of air. Worse, her body was slowly ceasing to produce the heat she desperately needed, the chill only fought off by the magical heat that he was struggling to maintain.

He never realized how small she was until he held her like this.

Shaking off his thoughts, he quickly located the cemetery, searching for a hall of the dead. Where there was a Hall of the Dead, there was a priest, and where there was a priest, there was a shrine. Relthreyn was terrible at restoration, his talents laying on the more destructive end of the spectrum. As a rule, priests were generally proficient in all schools of magic.

Finding the building he strode quickly to a house with a shrine of Arkay in the front, dodging the patrols of Imperial guards as he went. Picking the lock, he pushed open the door and he strode in to meet the wary gaze of a middle-aged Breton man.

The priest shot to his feet, the crackling tang of magicka appearing in the air as he summoned flames to his hands , and spoke in a sharp tone,

“Leave my home before I call the guards. Or deal with you myself.”

Relthreyn knew that he must have been a terrible sight, holding a small unconscious woman who was clearly in bad condition, with his dirty, travel-worn cloths splattered with blood, ectoplasm and Azura knows what else.

It didn’t matter. He would beg on his knees if it meant that the priest would help her.

He looked the man in the eyes, desperation clearly written on his face.

“Please. Help her.”

After a few long moments, compassion appeared of the man’s face. He waved Relthreyn to the upper floor of his house, gesturing for him to put her on the smaller of the two beds on floor. The priest immediately approached her, hands glowing with the soothing light of restoration magic.

“What happened to her.”

“We were fighting a lich. She took a death curse for me.”

The priest made a noise of acknowledgement, eyes intent on his charge.

After a few moments, Relthreyn added,

“She has an incurable lung disease, one that causes wheezing, coughing, and chest pain. It was acting up before we fought the lich.”

The priest hesitated for a moment before asking

“How has she been treating it?”

“She’s taken potions of cure disease, regeneration, and stamina. The cold of the air and the chill of the curse makes it worse, so I’ve been using fire magic to keep her warm. I applied it mainly to her upper back.”

Without responding to him, the priest continued working on her. After a few more minutes, the priest told him to go sleep in the guest room.

Reltreyn reluctantly moved over to the guest room, a small room of to the side of the house that he hadn’t noticed when we originally entered the room.

Despite his worry he quickly fell asleep, the days’ worth of exhaustion quickly catching up to him.

* * *

The next morning, he awoke to the pounding on the door. He froze, hands warily going to grab his knapsack with the dagger he had taken from the altar at the Forsworn encampment sheathed in it.

The priest's mellow tones drifted to his ears,

“Good morning, Captain! What brings you here so early in the day?”

“There was a suspicious figure seen lurking about last night. Looked as if it were carrying something.”

Ah. He wasn’t as sneaky as he thought he had been. Damn.

“I’m sorry, I don’t recall seeing anything last night. I’m terribly sorry to rush you but I have a lot of work to do today if I can’t bother you any further…?

“Of course. If you see or hear anything, please report to me or one of the guard.”

The door shut. After a moment, Relthreyn could hear the creek of the stairs as the priest walked up them. Looks like he had some explaining to do.

* * *

After a quick explanation of their circumstances to the oddly sympathetic man over breakfast, he received the verdict on Naya.

“You need to go to the College in Winterhold. She woke briefly earlier and received the Blessing of Arkay from the shrine. I’ve healed her as much as I could, and I’ve beat back as much of the curse as I could manage but breaking it is outside of my capabilities. You need to keep her as warm as possible and cast healing hands on her at once a day. In addition to the characteristic chill of death curses, the spell is twofold, attacking her lungs – making her preexisting condition worse- and attacking her muscles, opening small tears that steadily grow larger as time goes on unless healed constantly. It was intended to slowly kill her over a period of about three months, but her already fragile condition made the effects more immediate than intended. As for her preexisting condition, she needs to drink a blend of honey and blue mountain flower as well as a tonic of powdered bear claws, charred skeever hide, and garlic.”

After they finished breakfast, Relhreyn went to sit vigil over Naya. The priest offered to buy him the ingredients he needed to care for her, provided that Relthreyn supply the coin, which he did. Naya looked pale and weak, her already small form seeming fragile and breakable as she lay unconscious, clad in only the priest’s spare robe. He could not loose her. He hadn’t realized how much he had come to depend on her, not only as a travel companion but, as a friend. They had been together only a handful of weeks, but she had been his only company during that time. He didn’t realize how much he cared about her until he was faced with her possible end.

The priest returned with the ingredients, an extra waterskin, and some changes of clothes for the both of them. He had also moved the horse Relthreyn had acquired to a more hidden part of town, one that he could easily sneak to. 

Relthreyn would leave at dusk.

* * *

Evening fell as Rethreyn roused Naya. She was semi-lucid as he carried her to their horse and set off to Winterhold. He needed to get as much distance between himself and Dragon Bridge as elfishly possible.

The trip was difficult.

Between the logistics of trying to keep a cursed, delirious person alive while transporting her across half of Skyrim on horseback and the fact that it seemed like every bandit - and on one _very_ memorable occasion, dragon - under the sun decided to take this month to attack him, it was a miracle the trip was difficult and not impossible.

Nine days after her curse, he arrived at the Nightgate Inn. The bitter cold of the hold made her lungs take a turn for the worse.

Fortunately, one of the patrons of the inn, a Nord wearing ornate cloths, had an amulet of Kynareth, which Relthreyn lifted from him while he was drinking.

Thankfully, the amulet did help a small amount, which was good because the last stretch of their journey proved the most arduous.

He made it to Winterhold four days later.

* * *

Ralthreyn was running on potion fumes and restoration magic. He hadn’t slept since he had left Nightgate and his best friend was currently unconscious in his arms.

That probably explained why, when the uppity Altmer woman denied him entrance because he couldn’t cast a fear spell, he snapped a bit. Dovah Sil roaring to the forefront, the ground shook as he snarled out,

**‘’RUL HI DREH NI ZU’U AHST, ZU’U FEN KRII HI”**

She let him pass.

* * *

He was sitting vigil beside her bed once again.

When he had arrived in the Hall of Elements, an elderly mage had taken one look at Naya and immediately ushered them across the courtyard to the dormitories where he had the called in a fussy restoration mage with an inferiority complex. Despite her frantic demeanor, the woman clearly knew what she was doing.

The elderly mage had led him to the adjacent room and told him sternly to get some sleep. Apparently, they would speak in the morning.

It was now the morning. Well, it was the crack of dawn. Near enough.

Relthreyn dozed in the uncomfortable chair, unburdened at the now steady sound of her breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘’RUL HI DREH NI ZU’U AHST, ZU’U FEN KRII HI” - If you do not let me pass, I will kill you
> 
> All those Alchemy ingredients restore health and stamina while some damage magicka regeneration, essentially healing her while slowing the curse.


	8. Recoveries and Realizations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naya gets the help she needs

**Naya VI**

She woke first in an unfamiliar house with a strange man leaning over her, haggard face illuminated by the yellow glow of magic. A bolt of panic shot up her spine as she began to struggle. 

A gentle hand on the shoulder eased her back down as a soothing voice spoke.

"It's all right, I'm a healer. Your friend brought you here. You need to rest."

Her friend? 

Yes, remembered now. That odd spell…

The owner of the voice grasped her hand and placed it on what felt like a large statuette. As her hand contacted the smooth surface, a soothing rush of energy went through her. Her eyes began to feel heavier.

"Sleep."

She faded back into darkness.

* * *

She was occasionally roused from her haze to drink broth as well as something sweet and floral.

There were a few more flashes here and there.

The sway of the horse, the clash of metal meeting metal, the static tang of magic in the air.

The next time she truly woke, she saw blurry white snow. Which was very strange because she was warm. As she floated closer to consciousness, the blurriness retreated from her eyes. 

The snow nearest to the campsite was melted, revealing dead brown grass beneath.

She was wrapped in a blanket near a fire, her back pressed against a warm chest. 

Naya felt terrible. Her head was throbbing, she felt like she had cotton stuffed into her lungs, aches and pains working themselves down to the bone.

She shifted in her companion’s arms.

"Naya. How are you feeling?"

He looked terrible. He had heavy bruise colored bags under his eyes, his mahogany hair disheveled, days growth of stubble on his face.

She answered, voice hoarse.

"Bad. Where…?"

"You were cursed. I stopped in Dragon Bridge and a priest told me to go to the mage’s college in Winterhold. We're one day away."

He uncurled himself from around her, Naya immediately missing his warmth. She pulled the blanket tighter around herself as the chill of the air started the sink into her.

He raised his hand and cast healing hands, the soothing magic sinking deep into her bones.

Relaxing, she began to fade back into her haze only to be interrupted by Relthreyn's voice.

"I just need you to eat and drink something before you go back to sleep."

He provided her with a small bowl of broth and a cup of a steaming, sweet smelling liquid. She downed as much as she could before Relthreyn sat behind her again, wrapping the blanket around them both. She melted back into him as his feverishly hot skin warded off the pervasive chill.

Her eyes grew heavy as she began to drift off.

* * *

Again, Naya awoke.

This time to a soft, warm bed and Relthreyn dozing in a chair to her side.

He had abandoned his leather armor, and was wearing a sort of hooded robe, Dawnbreaker sheathed at his side.

She tried to speak, but her voice only emerged in a dry croak. The sound of if pulled Relthreyn from his doze.

His eyes opened, and a look of relief appeared on his face. He helped her sit up and brought a cup of cool water to her lips for her to drink.

“Thank Azura, you’re awake. We’re at the mages college.”

Relishing in the cool sensation of the water she managed to ask,

“When?”

“It’s the 1st Loredas of Second Seed, you fell ill in the middle of Rain’s Hand.”

That means she had to have been ill for at least a couple of weeks. What had happened?

At the look of bewilderment on her face he continued.

“Malkoran’s shade cursed you. We went first to Dragon Bridge where a priest of Arkay looked you over, and then we traveled to the College.”

The mage’s college was in Winterhold. A warm feeling rose in her chest when she realized that he had taken her across the entire country, caring for her along the way, so that she could be well. But that begged the question…

“Cursed?”

“That spell that you took for me, it was a death curse. It’s why you are in this condition.”

“I need to get the healer. I’ll be back in a moment.”

* * *

Relthreyn soon arrived back with the healer, a high-strung Breton by the name of Colette Marence.

He settled himself against the wall, watching them both with an intent gaze.

She immediately came over to Naya, hands glowing with restoration magic, asking her questions about her condition. Naya’s words froze in her throat, anxiety rising in her chest at the thought of speaking. Sensing her trepidation, Relthreyn answered the questions for her, accurately interpreting her expressions and body language for the healer.

Eventually, Healer Marence came to a verdict.

“It sounds like you developed a minor case of Frost Rasp shortly after you were cursed. The priest you went to cured it, but it weakened you enough that lung disease of yours flared up allowing the curse to progress faster. If your friend had been less diligent in his care of you, you would have died on the way here. You’re lucky you got to me when you did, or I’m not sure if I could have saved you. I can’t risk breaking the curse until you are stronger, or its backlash could kill you. At best, you are looking at five weeks before you are well enough to travel. Right now, I just want to focus on getting you well enough to cast magic so that you can have some protection from the backlash of the curse.”

Magic? She didn’t have magic.

After she exchanged a bemused look with him, Relthreyn vocalized Naya’s thoughts,

“She doesn’t have magic.”

“Oh, she most certainly does.” Turning back to her, the healer continued, “It seems to be a rather unique kind too. It looks like you are uniquely suited for restoration, illusion, and possibly enchanting. Once you are better, I would be perfectly willing to teach you of course.”

Her voice lowered as she murmured,

“Julianos knows that Skyrim needs more restoration mages.”

She quickly brightened back up and turned to address Relthreyn,

“That Daedric sword of yours, Dawnbreaker? It seems to have a rejuvenating effect on her, so I suggest you expose it to her as much as possible.”

With that last statement, the mage left the room, saying that she would be back in a few hours to check up on her again.

Why did she have access to magic? And in such specific branches?

Restoration, illusion, and enchanting. Branches that manipulated the body, the mind, and the soul.

“It must have been Meridia.”

Relthryen’s low voice interrupted her thoughts,

“Remember? She said that she would connect you to Aetherious.”

Yes. That seemed like so long ago.

She had said that she would connect Naya to Aetherious, but she also said that she would bestow upon her a blessing.

What was that blessing and what did it do?

* * *

Naya had decided to take a wait and see approach to the whole magic thing. She couldn’t use it until she was ‘stronger’ whenever that would be.

Relthreyn had filled her in on the rest of the doctor’s orders that Healer Marence had failed to mention.

Apparently, she was to be on bed rest until the end of the week, and after that she would begin walking short distances if she took care not to strain herself.

Currently, she was alone in her room, Relthreyn having offered to get her books on magic from the Arcaneaenum.

She didn’t expect him to do this much for her. When she had originally ran into him, she had thought that he would take her to the nearest town, and then continue in his way. She had quailed at that prospect, the thought of healing, of being vulnerable around completely unfamiliar faces had terrified her, but she had been prepared for it. Instead, he had helped her heal, had respected her unspoken boundaries, and generally had let her take things at her own pace. He didn’t push or ask questions like she thought he might, he had simply let her be.

She didn’t understand what she had done to inspire any level of loyalty in him. She hadn’t done anything to help him. To be perfectly honest, she was a liability to him. He was on the run; all she did was slow him down. Instead, he had let her travel with him and defended her against the dangers inherent to wilds of Skyrim. And then to do this, to bring her across half the country, caring for her himself, going to a hold where he could be recognized and reported. He had put himself in danger for her benefit, and she didn’t know what to do with that.

She heard the door to the dorm open and bang shut, a harsh gust of wing howling in through the room. Shivering, she pulled the blankets tighter around herself.

* * *

**Relthreyn VII**

Shivering to ward off the chill of the air, Relthreyn hurried across the courtyard to the Hall of Elements.

This college was the second place in the country that he would be staying in longer than a week, the first being Whiterun.

He missed the bustling city, with its liveliness and it friendly – Nazeem notwithstanding- inhabitants. It had actually been a decent stretch of time before he had traveled to High Hrothgar. His entrance to Skyrim had been hectic, to say nothing of the long months before. He had stayed in the city to put out some roots and catch his bearings. Surprisingly enough, when he had inquired about housing in the city after the dragon attack, the Jarl had been sympathetic to him wanting some calm before leaving. He had even let Relthreyn have a week of free stay at the inn so that he could find some source of income. During that time Reltthreyn had mainly found odd jobs around the city, doing favors for one person or another before he left. During his tenure as a citizen of Whiterun he had concluded that Balgruf was very kind man as well as an excellent ruler. The citizens of the hold were happy and prosperous, and that city had been the first place that he had truly felt safe in Skyrim. It had provided a respite he had desperately needed.

Bringing himself out of his thoughts, Relthreyn entered the Hall to get to the Arcaneaum. He came across Tolfdir, the elderly mage form before, teaching a group of students about wards. Before he knew it, he had somehow been shanghaied into helping with the lesson, which he found hilarious because he was terrible at wards. His talents lay more in more aggressive schools of destruction and conjuration, not restoration. Despite his ability to pick up the theory behind spells like it was nothing, it had taken him a solid year to learn a semi-decent lesser ward.

The students he had been roped into assisting were a young Dunmer – who couldn’t have been over sixty- named Brelyna Maryon, an ambitious Khajiit named J’zargo, and surprisingly a Nord named Omund.

The ensuing lesson had been…. interesting to say the least.

After demonstrating steadfast ward with Tolfdir, he ended up having to help supervise the students. It was a good thing too, as Brelyna had accidentally overpowered Omund’s flickering ward spell with a firebolt forcing Relthryn to counter it with a weak ice spike. This had led to an intense discussion about the art of countering spells with magic other than wards, and then evolved into a lecture on how to efficiently utilize destruction spells in general.

He even let Brelyna cast flames on him to demonstrate why is was a terrible idea to use low powered fire magic against a Dunmer, and had convinced Osmund to let Relthreyn cast a (very) weak frostbite on him to demonstrate the same with frost spells and Nords.

All in all, it was a surprisingly enjoyable time.

As the impromptu lesson ended, Tolfdir cast him a considering look before asking him to accompany the class to a Nordic ruin, Saarthal.

It did sound interesting, but he was still worried about Naya.

He told him that he would consider it.

And then he finally went to get Naya’s books.

* * *

He was pretty sure the Orc was channeling the spirit of Sithis himself. No lore master had the right to be that terrifying.

After being threatened by Urag gro-Shub, he selected some simple beginner’s books on magic for Naya. He remembered her mentioning that, contrary to the language, the script of this realm was completely different form her own and that she still had some trouble reading it.

He was rather curious about her native script; he would have to ask her to show him it.

Anyways, he had (carefully) selected some tomes under the foreboding stare of the orc, and left the Arcaneaum with them, heading for the courtyard.

He entered the Hall of the Apprentices to see Naya sitting up in her bed at the sound of his entrance.

He walked over to her, setting the books on her nightstand, when her heard her quiet voice.

“Why”

Confused, he asked,

“Why what?”

“Why this?”

She made a broad gesture with her arm.

“Why do this for me?”

Surprised, he sat in the wooden chair at her bedside, taking a moment to search for the right words. He spoke slowly and deliberately.

“My mother and I were nomadic. We never put down roots or built real relationships with anyone but each other. When she died, I ended up in Skyrim to try to find a place to live. Since I entered this country, there have only been two people who haven’t tried to test me or use me for their own ends. The Jarl of Whiterun and you. The Jarl asked me to help defend his hold, and in turn he gave me the opportunity to find the first permanent place I have had in my life. He was the first to give me a home. You are the first person to give me companionship, not because of relation or ulterior motives, but because you wanted to. You could have asked me to take you to a town or a city, and I would have. You decided to stay and wander across the wilds with me. You are my friend, and I did this because I care about you.

She looked down at her hands, a lovely blush appearing through her light brown skin.

“Oh. Thank you. For caring.”

After a few more moments she continued, her blush growing darker.

“I care about you too.”

They sat for a time in a companionable silence, her reading the books he had brought her, and he writing in his journal, which he hadn’t been able to update since the Embassy Incident.

Eventually, he remembered Tolfdir’s offer. Idly, he spoke.

“I was offered to go on an expedition to Saarthal as a sort of extra teacher for the apprentices.”

“You should go.”

“Oh?”

“You’ll go stir crazy here. Go. Have fun.”

He hesitated for a few moments. He really did want to go, but he didn’t want to leave her alone.

Correctly interpreting his hesitation, she continued,

“ _Go._ I’ll be fine”

He smiled slightly,

“If you insist.”

Looking satisfied with herself she turned back to her book as he closed his journal and got up to go pack for the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frost Rasp is pneumonia


	9. Journey To Saarthal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relthreyn and co. travel to Saarthal. Naya catches the attention of a certain Thalmor agent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations at the end of the chapter

**Relthreyn VIII**

The trip to Saarthal was supposed to be a week long endeavor at most. Two to three day to get there, one day to be there and then another two to three days back to the College.

The trip there with Tolfdir, Omund, Brelyna, and J’zargo was a rather interesting one. He spoke much with Tolfdir finding that the man was a Master of Alteration, and after Relthreyn admitted that he was looking to master that branch of magic they, the elderly mage had promptly began to quiz him over various aspect of the branch, the students listening in intently, adding a few comments here and there.

Relthreyn himself was a Master of Destruction and an Expert of Conjuration. He was ready for the Mastering Trial for Conjuration; he just hadn’t found anyone able to offer it. Alteration was the next branch he was interested in, and true Alteration Masters like Tolfdir were hard to find.

With this revelation, Relthreyn found himself taking the role of something between a student and a teacher. Giving lectures of what he was knowledgeable in, while also listening intently as Tolfdir taught while they walked.

Upon hearing that Relthreyn was a Master of Destruction, J’zargo seemed to perk up, and intently started peppering him with questions. Specifically, questions about creating destruction scrolls.

Scrolls were delicate but simple, one you got the hang of it. It was a simple matter of writing the applicable runes in the correct configurations and the desired results would be had. It was very easy to mess up, a rune drawn just a little incorrectly or a degree out of balance could make say, a fire scroll could burn the user instead of the opponents. At this explanation, J’zargo nodded thoughtfully and went silent.

At the look on the khajiit’s face, a vague sense of foreboding skittered up Relthreyn’s spine.

* * *

At night, after they made camp, the group huddled around the fire.

Tolfdir broke the silence by asking the students to get their journals and then turned to address Relthreyn,

“Yesterday while we were practicing, you referenced racial abilities. Please, expand on the subject.”

Casting a glance over the students, Rethreyn settled into his spot and spoke to his attentive audience.

“You all know of the special abilities of each race of Tamriel. For example, the Battle Cry of the Nords, the Dragonskin of the Bretons and so on and so forth. Each ability is first activated upon a time of great need or through deep meditation.”

At the apprentice’s attentive sounds, he continued,

“However, there are physical indications of who can use this ability. Tell me, what do myself Tolfdir, and J’zargo have in common that Omund and Brelyna do not?”

After a few moments of scrutiny, Omund’s voice rung out,

“Your eyes. They glow.”

“Correct. Once you gain access to these abilities, your eyes will gain a slight luminescence indicating the power inside of you. Now, racial abilities hail from the soul, not from Aetherious. Can anyone tell me what practical effect that has?”

This time, Brelyna answered,

“If the power comes from the soul and not from Aetherious, then it is much harder to ward against”

“Correct. In magic, like effects like. Since all magic is based upon Aetherious, it can only easily block what hails from the same place. Furthermore, all racial skills can be developed beyond the initial form. For example, the Ancestor's Wrath of my people at its weakest is essentially a version flame cloak that grants temporary immunity to fire spells and can only be used about once per day. Now I am going to show you the more advanced form I can use. See if you can spot any differences.”

Demonstrating Wrath to non Dunmer he wasn't trying to kill with was actually a bit of a taboo, but it was never one that Relthreyn had put too much stock in. 

Standing up, he gestured for Brelyna – the only one there who was partially fireproof – to follow him over to the edge of the firelight.

“Cast a steadfast ward please. Once your ward breaks, I want you to cast firebolt and the frostbite at me.”

Brelyna held out her hand, pale blue magic lighting the area on an ethereal glow.

Relthreyn stood a short distance away from her and focused, thinking of the rage he felt when Naya had been hit by Malkoran’s spell, of the anger he had felt in the Thalmor Embassy, and promptly burst into golden blue flames.

His audience, apart from Tolfdir, flinched back at the sight.

It was as he thought. His Wrath inflamed his dragon soul. These powers were based from the soul, and his was that of a dragon. It would only make sense that his soul-based ability would be affected too. His senses were sharper, his thoughts more intent, his emotions more intense. There was a shift in how he experienced the world, it became simultaneously fiercer and more remote.

He strode closer towards his paar-fahdon, snow melting around his boots, and pressed a flaming hand against her ward, easily burning through it. He stepped back, head cocked as he watched her with raptorial anticipation as she cast yol ronaaz, the spell being absorbed by his hungry flames, fire flaring briefly as the spell hit the inferno. Her next spell, fo gram, impacted his flames with a hiss forming an okaz gram around him.

His let his flames sputter out, reeling for a second as his perspective shifted back.

He preceded Brelyna to the fire, and met the excited gazes of the apprentices, and continued his lecture.

“Now what was the difference between what I described and what I showed you?”

* * *

Sarthaal turned out to be the sprawling ruins of an ancient city nestled in the middle of the mountain. There were wooden stairs and structure, indicating its ongoing excavation. The group trod their way through the snow towards the door as Tolfdir recited the rules of being in an active excavation site. It basically boiled down to don’t touch things that don’t belong to you and don’t be an idiot. Seemed simple enough.

One by one the group filed into the ancient wrought iron door.

* * *

**Naya VII**

The day after Relthreyn left, Naya was approached by an officious looking Altmer man in ornate robes whose precise gaze made her want to hide under her blanket.

Unfortunately, hiding under a blanket was frowned upon when someone was trying to talk to you, so she settled for covering her legs with it instead.

“I am Ancano, current adviser to the Archmage. I was hoping to speak with you.”

It wasn’t a request.

She gave him a blank gaze that he seemed to take as invitation to enter her space.

Let’s see, Altmer in ridiculous robes, bossy, obviously nosy? Probably Thalmor.

Fortunately, Relthreyn told her that he had the foresight to go by a pseudonym and not use any Shouts at the Embassy, and he was far from the only dark-haired red-eyed Dunmer on the face of Nirn, so hopefully, Ancano only had meaningless suspicions and not concrete facts.

She resolved to keep her mouth shut, which she didn’t think would be an issue as her voice seemed to have abandoned her again.

“You must be very close to your companion for him take you all the way across Skyrim. How did you meet him?”

‘All the way across Skyrim'? Relthreyn never told anyone where they had come from. Ancano definitely suspected something.

She shrugged, keeping her gaze focused intently on the bedding.

Giving her a level stare, he continued,

“I was hoping to speak with him. It _is_ part of my job to interview all newcomers to the college.”

There was no way in hell Ancano didn’t know were Relthreyn was. Stubbornly keeping her gaze on her hands, Naya didn’t even make an attempt to communicate with him.

The silence quickly became tense, until the mood was shattered by the door opening, revealing Healer Marence.

She observed the room, a scowl appearing on her face as she marched to Ancano, lecturing him about ‘disturbing her patient’ and about how he could ‘disrupt the healing process’ via his rampant jackassery – Naya was paraphrasing a little – and shooed him out of the room before turning to her aforementioned patient.

She had a journal in her hand which she gave to Naya.

“I know that you haven’t had any formal magical education, so I wanted to start teaching you. Your power is uniquely suited for Restoration so, I figure we should start with that school. There’s always room for more restoration mages, and untrained magic is very dangerous. Now, you won’t be able to use magic until the end of the week so, I want you to use that journal to write down any questions you may have for me, and I’ll do my best to answer them.”

Naya looked down at the journal in her hands and smiled. Maybe now she would be more useful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> paar fahdon - seeker ally; roughly student or apprentice
> 
> yol ronaaz - fire arrow, roughly firebolt
> 
> fo gram - frost cloud, roughly frostbite
> 
> okaaz gram - ocean cloud, roughly water vapor


	10. The Psijic Order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To absolutely no one's surprise, Relthreyn stumbles into danger. Naya's curse is broken and she begins to learn magic.

**Relthreyn IX**

Before he had left the College, Naya had insisted on him taking Dawnbreaker along, regardless of the weapons positive effect on her health.

Now, as he buried the sword in the chest of the dragur, an explosion of ethereal fire emanating from the hilt, he was happy that she had.

It said something about his life that he wasn’t surprised about everything having gone gourd shaped.

The expedition had started well.

After the group entered the ruinous city, Tolfdir had each of them separate to a different excavator. Relthreyn had been assigned to Arniel Gane.

The man was rather fussy, immediately shooing him off to go find him some enchanted artifacts from the site. Relthreyn quickly discovered that trying to find small enchanted artifacts in the middle of a vast ruin was rather like looking for a needle in a haystack. Eventually after a (very) frustrating hour of searching, Relthreyn found four enchanted rings – well actually five, but don’t tell anyone – before he eventually came across an amulet hanging on the wall with no discernible hook or binding. To further add to its mysteriousness, the amulet glowed with a weak magical aura.

Huh. Nordic ruin, mysterious glowing artifact that was magically attached to the wall…Nah. He wasn’t going to grab that without someone else there, just in case.

Rules of the excavation: Don’t be an idiot.

He quickly grabbed Tolfdir’s attention and then returned to the amulet, warily grabbing it, before – surprise, surprise – a trap activated, sealing him in the alcove.

“Perhaps you could use the amulet.”

At Tolfdir’s suggestion, he donned the artifact, a resonance appearing between it and its former cradle. He summoned a firebolt and shot it at the glowing area, wall crumbling to reveal a long, dim passageway. The gates opened, allowing Tolfdir through.

“Well would you look at that. This appears to lead somewhere. Let’s see where it goes.”

With that the Dunmer and the Nord entered the previously sealed part of the city.

They immediately were attacked by various dragur in the next chamber, leading to the current moment. As the explosion faded, Tolfdir lit alight the last two animate dragur, who were trying to retreat from Dawnbreaker’s flames, before turning to Relthreyn and opening his mouth, eyes fixed upon Meridia’s artifact.

The world went blue.

Great. Now what.

“Hold mage and listen well.”

Relthreyn turned to face a man in ornate yellow robes with red accents, elaborate sapphire and silver clasps holding his clothing in place.

Wait. Yellow – orange robes, sapphire clasps?

A monk of the Psijic Order? What on Nirn what he doing here?

“Know that you have set in motion a chain of events that cannot be stopped. Judgment has not been passed, as you had no way of knowing. Judgement will be passed on your actions to come, and how you deal with the dangers ahead of you.”

Oh, so they were judging him now. Fantastic.

“This warning is passed to you because the Psijic Order believes in you. You mage, and you alone, have the potential to prevent disaster. Take great care and know that the Order is watching you.”

The world faded back to normal as the monk disappeared.

Huh. Cryptic warnings, dangerous ruins, potential disaster, with him being the only hope?

Well, at least they _believed_ in him.

He was pulled out of his irritated thoughts by Tolfdir’s voice.

“I…I swear I felt something. What just happened?’

“A monk of the Psijic Order appeared and gave me a cryptic warning about danger ahead.”

“The Psijic Order? Are you quite sure about that? That’s very odd. And danger ahead? Why that doesn’t make much sense at all. The only danger here is a few dragur. The Psijics have no connection to these ruins. And no one’s seen any of their order for a long time. Perhaps we should take a look inside these coffins… Now please do be careful. Who knows what we are going to find.”

As they turned to inspect the room, Relthreyn immediately saw a hole through the back of one of the opened coffins, leading further into the ruin. That must have been where one of the dragur came from.

How in Oblivion had he missed that.

Shaking his head, he readied a shock spell in his off hand and led the way through, Tolfdir close behind.

They quickly entered a circular room filled with coffin which dragur quickly streamed out of. Relthreyn quickly went to engage the strongest of the lot while Tolfdir disposed of the weaker with a few well-placed fire bursts. Quickly blocking the Scrouge’s strike with Dawnbreaker, Relthryen discharged a lightning bolt into its chest staggering it back, and neatly beheaded it with Dawnbreaker, lighting the undead being on fire as it collapsed to the ground

Relthreyn yanked on the pull chain to gain access to the door, Tolfdir hesitating briefly before following him in.

“As much as I would like to stay and study the room, if the Psijic Order is warning of danger, two is better than one.”

The following few hours was a mixture of killing dragur, solving irritating puzzles, and Relthreyn sneaking gold and jewels into his pockets when Tolfdir couldn’t see him. Active excavation site or not, Relthreyn was still getting his loot. He knew that he was essentially grave robbing, but if the dead insisted on trying to kill him, then he insisted on taking their stuff. It wasn’t like they were using it anyway.

In one very memorable room they came across a dragur Deathlord with a penchant for Shouting Unrelenting Force and Disarm. Not wanting to lose his sword, Relthreyn quickly sheathed it and summoned Forbidden Sun into both his hands.

Seeing his spell, Tolfdir quickly trapped the dragur in what looked like a cage of force, rendering it temporarily immobile, before he retreated not wanting to get caught in the radius of Relthreyn’s spell.

Bracing himself against the massive drain to his magicka, Relthreyn charged his spell, and cast it just as the Deathlord freed itself from its prison. A large, fiery explosion struck the dragur, incinerating it.

Deathlords were extremely difficult to fight because unlike lower dragur, they had to be either hacked to pieces, or completely incinerated or they would eventually reconstitute and continue attacking. The fact that they were extremely strong and just as durable didn’t help matters.

“Stop. Do you feel that?”

At Tolfdir’s exclamation, they stopped in front of an iron door. There was an immense magical energy radiating from it. This room must house the danger the Psijic monk had been referring to.

Carefully pushing open the door, Relthreyn warily entered the room to see an immense glowing ward surrounding an enormous floating orb that was glowing with power. The artifact was a shifting blue green, engraved with glowing runes, black lines forming a beautiful design upon the surface.

“Well now… would you look at that.”

Entranced by the object, Tolfdir moved further into the room.

“I’d never imagined that we’d find something like this. Why is this buried so far in Saarthal?”

Relthreyn was cut off from responding to Tolfdir as a powerful looking dragur rose from a table in the middle of the room and started attacking them.

As they defended themselves, they noticed that nothing seemed to phase the creature. It was immune to their attacks.

“Keep it busy, I’ll try to drain some of its power!”

As Tolfdir ran to the glowing artifact, Relthreyn fought the creature, blocking strikes and dancing around blows, until one of his counterattacks staggered the thing. Seizing the opportunity, he _shouted_ “ **FUS** ” knocking the dragur back slightly and began attacking it in earnest. The dragur must have been quite the warrior in life, for it was a very skilled foe. Even with his opponent’s new vulnerability, Rethreyn found himself losing ground.

It was time for a new approach.

With a burst of strength, Relthreyn pushed back against the dragur’s axe, and pulled back, disengaging from his foe. Using the scant moments, he had bought himself, Relthreyn cast a firebolt at the dragur, and _shouted_ “ **TID** ”. Time slowed to a crawl.

**TID**

_Time_

The word he had absorbed from the forsworn hideout. This was his first time using it. The dragur moved forward slowly, as if it were walking through honey. Pressing his advantage, Rethreyn rushed to engage it, first disarming his foe with a well-placed blow to the shaft of its ancient axe, and then in two quick moves stabbed it through the skull and beheaded it.

Time sped up.

Panting, he stumbled back, the dragur collapsing into a heap, before it started glowing and crumbling. Recognizing the signs of an impending magical explosion, Rethreyn moved from the corpse, just as it detonated.

Looking at the table the dragur had risen from, he noticed a piece of paper. Grabbing it he opened it and read,

_Be bound here, Jyrik, murderer, betrayer_

_Condemned by your crimes against realm and lord._

_May your name and your deeds be forgotten forever_

_And the charm which you bear be sealed by our ward._

Tolfdir’s voice drew him away from the page.

“I’m not the only one seeing this, am I? This is simply fascinating.”

Relthreyn turned to behold the mystical orb and asked,

“What is this thing?”

“I have no idea! This is amazing. Absolutely amazing. The Arch-Mage needs to be informed immediately. He needs to see this for himself. I don’t dare leave this unattended. Can you return to the college and speak to Savos Aren of this discovery? Please, hurry.”

Relthreyn nodded, and started striding towards the door, grabbing a stamina potion from his sack and downing it.

He entered the next room, relishing the invigorating rush of energy he gained from the potion, when he heard the chanting.

Peering through the dimly lit space, he saw the Word Wall in all its glory. He approached it, the chanting growing louder with each step as his surroundings darkened, leaving the only thing visible the glowing word. He touched the wall and froze as knowledge poured into him.

**IIZ**

_Ice_

War cries echoing in his mind, Relthreyn quickly exited Saarthal and started the trek towards Winterhold.

* * *

**Naya VIII**

Naya was finally well enough to cast magic. Which in her opinion was super awesome because now she could actually begin to learn Restoration, and more importantly be rid of this stupid curse.

Healer Marceno, who had asked to be referred to as Colette, had given Naya a potion of magicka which apparently was how non mer species awakened their magic. According to the woman, mer were born with an instinctual grasp of how to manipulate their power, but mortals had to have a bit of an assist, be it through meditation or simply ingesting a plant or potion that would kick start the process.

Naya had downed the potion, and then blinked as a rush of power tingled through her system. It felt like an electric current danced up her spine, before it sank into her bones, a comforting sort of warmth appearing in Naya’s chest. That must be her magic.

As the healer started the preparations to break Naya’s curse, she told her that it would be a rather painful affair and that Naya must try to remain awake as long as possible.

As the woman began casting the spell, Naya braced herself for the pain. It started as a curious tingle in her extremities, before it began to move slowly up her veins reaching to her heart, growing more painful as it moved. She could physically feel the spell finding and attack the curse in her system, and as it consumed more of the malevolent spell, Naya began to grow more faint. Stubbornly, she held on, even as the feeling began more intense until it became too much, and she sank into blissful darkness.

* * *

Naya awoke.

This was the third time in the past three weeks that she had fainted, and she was getting rather sick of it.

She was still in the bed that had been her home since her arrival at the college, and on her nightstand, there was a tome that said Healing on it.

Sitting up, Naya reached for it. As she moved, she realized that she felt better than she had in weeks. Her lungs were still stuffy, her body still weak, but the lingering malevolence that had been gnawing at her since Meridia’s temple was gone.

As she looked closer at the book in her hands, she realized that it must have been a spell tome. She flipped it open, and stared at the glowing words on the pages, the light growing brighter until it vanished, just as quickly as it came.

She dropped the tome and raised her hand, yellow light pooling into it, as she manipulated her magic in a way the she now _knew._

She grinned; features lit by the power flowing out of her.

* * *

Days later, she was in the Hall of Elements, sitting against the wall to catch her breath, the trip across the courtyard having sapped her strength. The door banged open, Relthreyn quickly entering the room.

He was back sooner than she expected.

“Do you know where the Arch-Mage is?”

He looked at her again, and blinked,

“You're up sooner then I thought you’d be.”

She shrugged and grinned, before gesturing to the Arch-Mages quarters. She cast him a quizzical look, wondering why he was in such a rush. He strode over and helped her stand, partially supporting her weight as they moved to the Arch-Mages quarters.

“We found something at Sarthaal. It may be dangerous.”

So, he had stumbled into trouble. She gave him a _look,_ utterly unsuprised that he had gotten into some sort of situation.

“I know, I know. Look, it may very well be nothing. We could be jumping at shadows”

She let out a disbelieving snort as he pushed open the door, leading them into the Arch-Mage’s quarters.


	11. The Midden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Eye of Magnus is transported to the College, Ancano continues to be an ass, and Naya learns more of Relthreyn's past.

**Relthreyn X**

They entered the quarters to see an elderly Dunmer idly flipping through a book.

Apparently hearing their entrance, he spoke,

“You are both relatively new here, are you not? I have noticed you, but we have not spoken”

Relthreyn answered,

“No, we haven’t”

“I am Savos Aren, Arch-Mage of the College of Winterhold. I am quite content to see nearly any aspect of magic explored and investigated here. But I do not and will not approve of any research or experiments that cause purposeful harm to your fellow members of the College. Are we clear?”

Exchanging a glance with Naya, he answered for them both.

“Yes.” He paused to take a breath, “Dangerous experiments must be a problem here.”

The Arch-Mage let out a gusty sigh,

“Please don’t tell me that another one of the apprentices has been incinerated. I have enough to deal with right now.”

“Well no but speaking of danger we found some sort of…orb in Saarthal, Tolfdir wanted you to see it.”

“I… see. I trust that Tolfdir will provide a more…scientific explanation. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Tolfdir normally looks after your group doesn’t he? Since he’s apparently occupied, and I will need to see this discovery for myself, I think perhaps you should begin researching the subject. Speak with Urag in the Arcanraeum. See if he is aware of anything that matches your discovery. And…good work.”

Savos set down his book and stood up walking to the door before he stopped and gave Relthreyn a considering look.

“… You’re Virvdasi’s boy aren’t you”

“You knew my mother?”

“Yes. We come from the same tribe. I haven’t spoken with her since her exile.”

“Oh… she’s dead. She died ten years ago.”

The Dunmer looked saddened.

“I see.”

With that he continued his trek out of the room, presumably to Sarthaal.

There was silence for a time, until a tug at Relthreyn’s tunic distracted him from his thoughts. He looked down at Naya, who had a questioning glint in her copper eyes.

“Let’s sit down first.”

He walked with her out of the room, into the circular part of the Hall before he sat on the floor, back against the wall, her joining him with a sigh of relief.

After casting her a concerned look, he began.

“My people have two distinct groups, The Great Houses and the nomadic Ashlanders. There is trade between the groups but, the people of the Houses look down upon the Ashlanders for their nomadic way of life, and the Ashlander dislike the Houses for their worship of the Tribunal. My mother was exiled from her tribe because she had a child, me, with one of the people of the Houses.”

“Oh… that sucks.”

He let out a bark of laughter at her frank statement.

“I’m surprised Savos is an Ashlander, they rarely leave their tribes. I wonder how well they knew each other…”

They sat for a time in contemplative silence. Before Naya perked up.

“‘Relthreyn, look! I can only do Healng, but…”

Smiling she held out her hands, the tell-tale yellow glow of restoration around him.

The spell was strong, no flicker or discoloration that indicated an imperfect spell being cast.

It took the average beginner mage a week to learn their first spell, and that’s if they were an elf. Naya hadn’t been able to access her magic for more than three days, maximum.

He would be jealous of her talent in Restoration if he wasn’t so happy for her. He knew that she had felt some degree of insecurity over the fact that she couldn’t defend herself as well as she could if she were a native inhabitant of Nirn. Magic would help her even the playing field, so he knew how much this meant to her.

“Oh, a Thalmor person talked to me.”

What.

* * *

So. Apparently there was a Thalmor agent at the College. Shit.

They entered the Arcanaeum.

As they approached, the orc growled out,

“Hundreds of years have gone into assembling this collection. Its going to stay pristine, understand?"

Ah, Urag. Just as terrifying as last time.

Naya gave Relthreyn a quick glance, a ‘what’s up with this guy’ look on her face, before wandering over to one of the tables and sitting down. She proceeded to grab a book and open it, studiously ignoring her surroundings.

“I need to learn about something we found in Saarthal.”

“I know what you want. Word travels fast around here. Discovered some big mystery, huh? Well you don’t even have to ask. No, I don’t have anything for you. Not anymore, anyway”

“You don’t have anything that can help?”

“I said not anymore. Orthorn stole a number of books when he ran off to Fellglow Keep to join those summoners. Some kind of peace offering. I think one of those volumes must have had some relevant information. If you want them, you’ll have to talk to Orthorn.”

Azura damn it. Fellglow Keep was near the area where he’d had his skirmish with a Thalmor Patrol. The chances of them having informants in the area were high, no way could he go there.

Thanking Urag, he went over to Naya to see if she was going to follow him out of the library. At her confirmation, he helped her up and they began to make their way out of the Arcanaeum only to have who must have been Ancano grace themselves with his presence.

“You there. I have questions for you.”

Great. He was _so_ looking forward to _this_ conversation.

“You were in Saarthal, yes? It has come to my attention that something was found there.”

He took a page from Naya’s book and kept quiet.

“Tolfdir is still there now, is he? I shall expect a full report when he returns.”

“Why do you even care about this?”

“It is my job to care about these things. My role as adviser to the Arch-Mage is aided by knowing everything that transpires here.”

‘Adviser’. Right. He was definitely a spy.

“Thank you for your… _help_. You may go now.”

They left the room, Ancano’s suspicious gaze burning into his back.

* * *

Fortunately, he was able to convince Brelyna and J’zargo to get the books, the two apprentices dragging Onmund along with them. And by convince, he meant promise to be Brelyna’s test subject for her spell-crafting and promise J’zargo that he would test his homemade scrolls.

He knew explaining scroll-crafting to the khajiit would come back to bite him.

A week after the apprentices left, he saw Tolfdir, Savos, and a Breton woman he didn’t recognize transporting in the glowing orb. He ran over to help them move it, telekinesis spell in hand.

After anchoring it over the magical well in the middle of the hall, Savos spoke to the Breton woman,

“Mirabelle, would you mind accompanying me to my quarters, I have something to give to you.”

The Breton walked with the Dunmer in the direction of his room. They walked close to each other, elbows brushing, bodies turned towards one another, as they conversed in warm tones.

He was torn from his ruminations by Tolfdir’s voice.

“I just can’t seem to tear myself away. Whatever it is, its beauty is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. If you’d allow me to indulge myself for a moment, I thought I might make a few observations…

I’m sure you’ve already noticed the markings. They’re quite unlike anything we have seen before. Ayleid, Dwemer, Daedra… not even Falmer. None of them are a match. Quite curious indeed. Now I’m not sure who attuned you are, but can you feel that? This marvelous object. It practically radiates magicka, and yet it’s unlike anything I’ve felt before. Arch-Mage Aren is already hard at work, hopefully we’ll have more information soon.”

In a quieter voice he continued,

“I wonder what the Augur would have to say about this…”

“The Augur?”

“I’m afraid I must intrude. It is urgent that I speak to your associate immediately.”

Ancano. Wonderful.

“This is most inappropriate! We are conducting serious research here!”

“Yes, I have no doubt of its gravity. This, however, is a matter that cannot wait.”

“Well, I’m quite sure I’ve never been interrupted like this before… the audacity!”

Wow. Ancano even got to Tolfdir. The elderly Nord was the nicest person here. Turning to address Rethreyn, Tolfdir spoke.

“I suppose we can continue this at some later time, where we can avoid interruptions.”

He then turned his attention back to the orb, leaving him to Ancano’s tender mercies.

“I need you to come with me immediately. Let’s go.”

“I don’t understand what’s going on”

“Really? Well, allow me to clarify the situation. What I’d _like_ to know is why someone claiming to be from the Psijic Order is here in the College. More importantly, I’d like to know why he’s asking for _you_ specifically. So we’re going to go have little chat with him, and find out exactly what he wants.”

Them again? Well, anyone who pissed off Ancano was good in Relthreyn’s book.

“Why are you so concerned about this?”

“I’ll be the one asking the questions. All _you_ need to know is that the Psijic Order is a rouge organization, believing themselves to be above the law. They have clashed with the Aldmeri Dominion before,” He paused, looking Relthreyn squarely in the eyes. “And I have no intention of allowing that to happen here.”

Oh, he definitely suspected something about Relthreyn.

The only question was, what?

* * *

They stepped into the Arch-Mages quarters.

“Now. You are going to speak to this… monk and find out why he is here, and then he will be removed from College grounds.”

They climbed up the stairs, hearing Savos and who must be the Breton woman from earlier asking questions to whom was probably the Psijijc monk.

As soon a Relthreyn walked into the room proper, everything once again went blue.

“Be calm. I don’t mean you any harm. It is good to meet you in person.”

It was the same Psijijc from Saarthal.

“What’s going on?”

“I’ve given us a chance to speak privately, but we must be brief. The situation here at the College has reached dire importance and attempts to contact you as we have previously failed. I believe it is do with the very source of our concern. This object…The Eye of Magnus as your people have taken to calling it. The energy coming from it is preventing us from reaching you with the visions you have already seen. The longer it remains here, the more dangerous the situation becomes. And so, I’ve come here personally to tell you that it must be dealt with.”

“What does this have to do with me?”

“The Psijic Order does not typically… intervene directly in events. My presence here will be seen as an affront to some in the Order. As soon as we have finished, I will be leaving your College. I am all to aware that my arrival has aroused suspicion, especially in your Thalmor associate. Nevertheless, we cannot act directly, you must take it upon yourself to do so.”

“So what exactly is the problem.”

“As you well know, this object… the Eye is immensely powerful. We fear that the World is not ready for it, that it will be misused. Indeed, many in the Order believe that it has already…. Rather that something will happen soon, something that cannot be avoided”

For a man who was supposed to be brief, he sure did talk a lot.

“What do you expect from me.”

“We believe your efforts will be best spent dealing with the aftermath, but we cannot predict what that will be. I fear I have already overstepped the bounds of my Order, but I will offer this: seek the Augur of Dunlain here in your College. His perception may be more coherent than ours.”

Augur… Tolfdir had mentioned him earlier.

“Who’s the Augur of Dunlain”

“He was once a student here at the College. Now…he is something different. Now, I’m afraid we must leave you. We will continue to watch over you and guide you the best we can. IT is within you to succeed, never forget that.”

The world fade back to normal, Ancano coming forward to question him.

Relthreyn turned to observe Savos and the Breton woman. They were still standing near each other, comfortable in each other’s space, both staring quizzically at he and the Psijic.

After the Psijic left the room, they turned to him the woman speaking first,

“I didn’t want to say this in front of Ancano, but when the Psijic looked at you, I felt him do something. What happened.”

Let’s see here, Breton, authoritative, close to Savos…She must be Mirabelle, the second-in-command he had heard about.

This whole situation concerned them too, so he didn’t see the need for secrecy.

“The monk froze time; I think to speak with me privately. He said that someone here is going to misuse the Eye, and that the aftermath may be catastrophic. He told me to speak with an Augur of Dunlain…?

Quickly exchanging a look with Savos, the woman responded,

“Well. That a monk of the Psijic Order would come here to warn you is something significant. We will certainly keep that in mind. As for the Augur… you can find him in the Midden, underneath the College. He was a student here, but he was incautious in his experiments and ended up changing himself into something…different. None the less he is very knowledgeable. He should be able to shed some light on the subject.”

Savos spoke up,

“You can find an entrance to the Midden close to the room your friend is housed in.”

* * *

He had just entered the dormitory when the though occurred to him. If this Augur was so knowledgeable, then he may be able to answer some of Naya’s questions. She may still be rather weak but, it would be the first chance for her to have answers about what Meridia did to her, and more importantly, how she was in this realm. And a trip to the Midden could not possibly be more perilous than their desperate trek to Winterhold.

Reaching Naya, who was resting in her bed, he told her about what transpired and about the possibility for answers with the Augur. She was pensive for a few moments.

“I think I want to go.”

Then it was settled. He didn’t know how long they would be down there so, he packed a bag with enough food for three meals, extra cloths, and filched a couple of health and stamina potions from where Ancano stayed on the upper floor to add to their stock. If Naya was meant to be moving, she would need the boost.

He handed a potion of Vigor to her, and she quickly downed it.

They the went the door that led to the Midden and descended into it.

* * *

**Naya IX**

The Midden was miserably cold. Relthreyn must have noticed her discontent, because after her first shivers the air around them heated, snow starting to melt underneath his boots.

The first danger they ran into was an ice wraith.

It was Naya’s first time seeing one of those things. It looked like one of those East Asian dragons, only it hissed like a tea pot and was made of ice. Relthreyn quickly disposed of it, melting it in a torrent of flames.

They continued onwards into the depths of the College, occasionally running across dragur.The Midden was a very large and confusing place, taking unexpected twists and turns, the length of the journey prompting Naya to steadily go through her supply of stamina potions.

Eventually, they came to a room with a strange looking raised area in it. There were candles circling the elevated spot, the sign of Conjuration engraved in the middle of it.

Relthreyn made a noise of surprise.

“An Atronach forge. I thought these things were myths.”

“Atronach forge…?”

“If you put ingredients in that offering box there,” Relthreyn waved to a golden box with his hand, “ The forge will make an Atronach related magical object or ingredient, or simply create an Atronach itself.”

She had to hand it to him, that was pretty cool.

“Naya, lets stop here and take a break. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you downing stamina potions every five minutes.”

About to protest, she stopped when she saw his face. He looked about ready to just carry her across the Midden and knowing him, he’d probably do it if she pushed herself too hard.

She sheepishly sank down to the ground, Relthreyn following her, his magical heat quickly warming the cold stone floor. He rustled around his sack for a moment, eventually pulling out some sandwiches for them to enjoy while she rested.

Once Naya had caught her breath without the assistance of a stamina potion, they continued onwards, deeper into the Midden.

They eventually came into a room with a two dragur in it, a bow and quiver full of arrows on both of their backs. As Relthreyn hit one with a firebolt, putting both of the shambling corpses attention on him, Naya palmed the dagger Relthreyn had given her in place of her old one, the one he had melted when he had killed Malkoran. She had never had the chance to use it before, this being the first time she had seen combat since the temple. She snuck up behind the dragur aiming for Relthreyn, and killed it, the corpse collapsing in a heap as the drain vitality enchantment on the blade invigorated her.

They went through the wooden door in that room, entering the Midden Dark. They crossed an icy bridge with another ice wraith, which Relthreyn melted, before coming to stop before another door. It was locked, and as they attempted to open it, a mystical voice emanated from it.

_“Your perseverance will only lead to disappointment.”_

They looked at each other and continued attempting to open the door.

_“Still you persist? Very well, you may enter.”_

They opened the door revealing a glowing ball of blue light perched in a font.

The Augur of Dunlain.


	12. The Augur of Dunlain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relthreyn and Naya get answers, Ancano continues to be shifty, Relthreyn does those favors he owes the apprentices, and Naya makes headway of this Blessing of Meridia business.

**Naya X**

The Augur of Dunlain was a sentient being of pure magicka.

Huh.

How did someone even to that to themselves?

She tried to speak to him, but her voice was once gain stuck in her throat.

_“I am that what you have been seeking. Your efforts… are in vain. It has already begun. But those who have sent you have not told you what they seek. What you seek.”_

Relthreyn spoke.

“And what is it I am seeking?”

_“The Thalmor came seeking answers before you, unaware they will be his undoing. Your path now follows his though you will arrive to late.”_

Thalmor?

Her friend vocalized both their confusion,

“Thalmor… Ancano?”

_“Yes. He seeks information about the Eye, but what he finds shall be quite different.”_

Well. She couldn’t say she was surprised.

_“His path will cross yours in time but first, you must find that what you need. You and those aiding you wish to know more about the Eye of Magnus. You wish to avoid the disaster of which you are not yet aware. To see through Magnus’ Eye without being blinded, you will require his staff. Events now spiral quickly towards the inevitable center, so you must act with haste. Take this knowledge to your Arch-Mage.”_

The Augur made to vanish, but Naya managed to force out,

“Wait.”

The light seemed to regard her.

_“Ah yes. Worldstrider. You too come seeking answers.”_

Yes. She did.

“How…?”

_“You have the lingering power of the dread void around you. You were once veiled by the Night, but the Light has pierced it.”_

“Light?”

_“You have been blessed by the Prince of Infinite Energies. Search within, and you will find what you seek”_

With that cryptic statement the Augur vanished.

* * *

As they slowly made their way out of the Midden, Relthreyn broke their thoughtful silence.

“Naya… the only thing I can think of that is of the void and has enough power to reach across realms is Sithis.”

“Sithis?”

“He’s known as the Dread Father, the personification of the void itself. Those who worship him, worship death. His bride is known as the Night Mother, the Bride of Death, the patron of assassins.”

If it was Sithis or this Night Mother why would they have brought her here? They sounded like death deities, so why wasn’t she dead?

Unwittingly voicing her thoughts, Relthreyn continued,

“But it’s odd. Both the Dread Father and the Night Mother are opposed to life, wanting all things to return to the void, so why would they introduce more life to Nirn?”

* * *

When they exited the Midden, they ran across the apprentices making their was past the courtyard, an extra mage in tow. That must have been the person Urag said stole the books.

They looked rather travel worn so, Relthreyn and Naya offered to bring the books to Urag so that they could go rest.

After she and Relthreyn had delivered the books and the now terrified looking mage to the orcs tender mercies, they made their way to the Hall of Elements where they found a pensive looking Arch-Mage studying the Eye.

Relthreyn broke him out of his reverie.

“The Augur said that we need to find the Staff of Magnus”

Arch-Mage Aren’s face gained a slightly cagey look.

“Well, then. Someone will need to follow up on this.”

And by someone he obviously meant Relthreyn.

Relthreyn gave him a level stare and then asked,

“What do you want me to do.”

“I seem to recall Mirabelle mentioning the Staff somewhat recently. Why don’t you see is she can tell you anything.”

They eventually found Head Mage Ervine sitting in the dorms that Naya had been staying in, reading a book titled Night of Tears. Direct as ever, Relthreyn cut straight to the point.

“Do you know anything about the Staff of Magnus?”

“Now that’s an odd question. Now why in the world would you be asking?”

“The Augur told me to find it.”

“Yes. Well a few months back the Synod showed up looking for it. They were apparently under the impression that we were keeping it in a closet somewhere. I was quite surprised to find them on our doorstep. They seemed amiable enough, but their line of questioning made me… uneasy. It became clear their trying to hoard powerful objects, looking to consolidate power.”

Who was the Synod?

Relthreyn seemed to know for he continued his line of questioning.

“So no one knows the Staff’s location.”

“No one here does. The Synod seemed convinced that it was somewhere here in Skyrim. They inquired about the ruins of Mzulft, but that’s all I remember. It sounded like they were heading there, though they were rather secretive about why. There’s a chance they may still be at Mzulft, just don’t expect them to be cooperative.”

She turned back to her book, clearly dismissing them.

As they walked away, Naya asked,

"Synod?"

"Their a group of mages based in Cyrodil. They put on airs of being the foremost magical authority in the world, but they spend most of their time trying to curry favor with the Emperor. She was right, they probably are trying to consolidate power to gain favor in the Empire."

Relhtreyn clearly wasn't a fan of them. 

"So not good then."

He shook his head.

"Not good at all."

* * *

A blizzard had started up delaying Rlthreyn’s departure by some measure of days. Naya thought it was a good thing, he had been running himself ragged with all of this College business. He needed some rest.

After Naya had eventually badgered the man into getting some sleep, she sat on her bed to get some rest herself, and considered what she now knew about her situation,

Firstly, She was taken to this world by some being related to the void, most likely Sithis or the Night Mother.

Secondly, The Augur implied that it was some sort of ‘veil’ that had originally kept her from accessing magic.

Lastly, aside from letting her access Aetherious, Meridia’s blessing clearly had some other effect, that were as of now, unknown.

‘Look within herself’ indeed, what did that even mean?

Letting out a huff of frustration, Naya lay back in her bed, intending to get some shut eye.

* * *

**Relthreyn XI**

“Were these supposed to explode, because they exploded”

He had gone back down to the Midden to test J’zargo’s Flame Cloak spells and take notes of the effects for him. They were successful… to an extent. It seemed J’zargo had taken from inspiration from his demonstration on the way to Saarthal, which was a good thing, it took a lot of skill to make scrolls from scratch. The only problem was that J’zargo’s scrolls ended up setting Relthreyn on fire.

“Oh. It was not J’zargo’s intention to place you in harms way, to be sure. It is true that J’zargo had been slightly concerned that there may be… problems.”

Reltthreyn waved a hand, much less irritated now that he had seen the khajiit’s remorse.

“No, its… fine. Just, please be more careful in how you construct the runes next time.”

“J’zargo will take this under consideration. You are a good friend to J’zargo now, for taking this risk. J’zargo thanks you.”

With that, Relthreyn handed J’zargo the notes he had taken of the effects of his scrolls, and then wandered off to go find Brelyna.

* * *

_Everything was green._

He actually preferred being on fire over this.

The door opened revealing Naya who was looking much healthier than she had in the previous week.

She took one look at him, a helpless smile growing on her face.

“Relthreyn, are you aware… “

“That I’m green? Yes.”

The effects faded, and Brelyna nervously began casting her spells again.

“Okay now, don’t move at all.”

There was a flash of purple magic, Relthreyn letting out a surprised… moo?

He was a cow.

He turned to see Naya’s hand over her mouth, shaking as she tried to suppress her laugher.

“Oh my. That isn’t right. Just wait…just. I can fix this.”

He sure hoped he could.

Another flash of magic.

He was a horse.

More magic.

Now he was a dog.

A final spell, and he was back to his normal self.

He was never going to take walking on two legs for granted again.

“There, all better.”

He turned to Brelyna,

“We are **never** speaking of this again.”

She nodded her head vigorously,

“Agreed.”

There were a few more beats of silence before Naya lost her battle with herself, breaking down into helpless peals of laughter.

Realizing the sheer ridiculousness of the whole situation, he joined her.

Perhaps it wasn’t so bad if it led to this moment with his friend.

* * *

He was coaching Naya through meditation.

The Augur had said something about her looking inside of herself to find Meridia’s blessing. That sounded a lot like meditation so, here they were.

“You need to find the source of you connection to Aetherious. It should feel like a stream of energy, leading out of you body.”

She nodded, closing her eyes as she focused inwards. A few moments and she relaxed a little, clearly feeling something.

“Good. Now you should be feeling something else, something similar. It should feel natural, like a well of energy that springs from within you, not from beyond.”

She nodded carefully, concentration evident in her posture.

“Good now reach into it, just allow it to flow within you. Do not force it.”

She slowly started to glow with a golden radiance.

The light made Relthreyn feel rejuvenated, bolstering his strength. The aches and pains he had acquired throughout the day faded.

The Blessing of Meridia

* * *

Finally, the blizzard let up.

He was about to start his journey to Mzulft when Mirabelle caught up to him.

“Wait. I am coming with you.”

What? Why?

He asked as much.

“I’ve tried speaking to Savos about this, but he has been strangely…evasive about this Staff of Magnus business. I think he knows something. If I go to Mzulft, I may get some answers.”

She sounded slightly frazzled, which was strange for the normally composed woman. This was more than the Staff. This had something to do with Savos. It was personal to her.

“Well, we should get going then.”

Together, Master Mage and Dragonborn set off for the Dwarven city.


	13. Discerning the Unseen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Staff is located.

**Relthreyn XII**

Fortunately, Mzulft was in Stormcloak territory, meaning there wasn’t much need for Relthreyn to be sneaking around. So, they made to the ruin in quick order.

Upon entrance to the first room, they immediately came across a dying man in Synod robes.

With his final breath he begged them to find a stolen crystal and bring it to the Occulatory.

Maribelle approached the corpse and ruffled through his robes, grabbing his journal. Quickly shuffling through it she exclaimed,

“Yes.. it looks like he brought back a focusing crystal in order to discern sources of power in Skyrim. We need this crystal to locate the Staff of Magnus.”

With that, they continued into the next room. It was full of ancient steaming machinery, the pipes and gears making loud metallic clanking sounds as they continued their duties despite their creator’s absence.

Maribelle reacted faster than he did, electrocuting the dwarven spider that tried to attack them.

“Be on your guard. Dwemer cities are swarming with Falmer and machines like these.”

They descended into Mzulft destroying dwarven machines and eventually Falmer.

Their quest was a very quiet, business like affair, silence only broken by the sounds of combat. Mirabelle didn’t seem to be in a very talkative mood and Relthreyn just wanted to get out of the ruin as soon as possible.

The machines were easy enough to overcome, with Spiders all that had to be done was break the red crystal, for Spheres, electricity seemed to shorten out the automatons allowing them to be easily slain.

The Falmer were a different story. Yes they were blind, but they were much more skilled than the average bandit or mage that Relthreyn usually fought against, their Chaurus they kept being the worst part of the whole ordeal.

He and Mirabelle eventually settled into a comfortable pattern of her blasting their foes with magic, and he engaging them with a bound sword, having left Dawnbreaker at the College with Naya.

They eventually came to a large multi-levelled room with multiple Falmer in it. There were two doors, one leading deeper into the ruin, and one in the highest level of the room. Since they were trying to reach an Occulatory, Relthreyn assumed up was the way to go.

They strode into the room, their aura of fortifying alteration shedding light into the darkness.

The Falmer attacked, a mage and two sword bearing ones going for Relthreyn. Not wanting to deal with the mage yet, he froze it with a cry of **“IIZ”,** mage temporarily out of commission, he turned to engage the two sword-bearing fallen elves. Blocking one strike with his sword, he forced a large amount of magicka through his veins, overcharging the fireball in his hand a shot it at the creature with his other hand making it stagger back with a cry of pain. He whirled to parry a strike from the other as it approached, quickly disarming and beheading it in a few quick motions. Hearing footsteps behind him, he sidestepped the jumping blow of the Falmer he had burned, dropping his conjured sword so that he could charge a Rift Bolt in both hands, electrocuting the Falmer, the spell teleporting its body into the mage attacking Mirabelle, knocking it over. Mirabelle seized the opportunity and put it down with an ice spike to its brain.

Room kneeled, rifling through the bodies, taking some gold and potions they had on them, eventually finding a weird looking crystal on one of the mages. That had to have been the Focusing Crystal. He grabbed it and brought it over to Mirabelle only to see her standing in front of the upper door.

“It’s locked.”

Locked? He moved past her to take a closer look at it. Damn. It was one of those weird unpickable dwarven locks that he’d come across a time or two before.

He turned to Mirabelle.

“There has to be a key in here somewhere. Let’s go look through the other rooms.”

She nodded, both turning to go across the room towards the other door.

After traversing through an incredibly long, boring hallway, they got to one final door and opened it-

-and immediately hauled ass out of there, pursued by a steaming Dwarven Centurion.

As they ran through the hallway, dodging projectiles and taking potshots at the automaton as they went, an idea struck Relthreyn.

“Mirabelle” he yelled between gasps of breath, “Slow it down!”

She gave him an incredulous look that quickly shifted to understanding as he panted out “Lightning Storm.”

She turned, a paralysis and ice spell in each hand, before somehow combining the two spells into an icy green-blue creation, before overcharging it and sending a stream of freezing turquoise light at the Centurion, making the machine slow drastically as it struggled against the spell.

Taking a moment to appreciate the sheer awesomeness of the spectacle in front of him, Relthreyn _shouted **“**_ **TID”** slowing time, taking the extra moments he bought himself to charge Lightning Storm. He moved his hands through the casting process, and Mirabelle, hearing the tell-tale electric crackle signifying the completion of the Master spell, released one final burst of magic before sprinting out of range.

Relthreyn struck, sending streams of lightning crackling into their foe, blindingly white light illuminating the room.

The Centurion stopped, struggling against the spell, before falling to the floor with a titanic crash.

There was silence, the mages falling to the floor as they caught their breath.

After a few moments Relthreyn’s voice rang out,

“How many septims would you lay of that thing having the key.”

Mirabelle stared at him before, unexpectedly, snorting, the sound odd from the usually refined woman.

“No bet.”

Relthreyn dragged himself to his feet, approaching to machine. Stooping to inspect it he found- to his complete lack of surprise- a key attached to the automaton.

“Found it.”

* * *

They stumbled to the door of the Occulatory, still exhausted by their ordeal from earlier.

They came to yet another locked door, and voice rang out of it.

“G…Gavos is that you…I’d almost given up hope. Let me get the door.”

The lock turned with a loud click, the great bronze doors opening.

The mage, who must have been Paratus Decimus, immediately turned defensive upon seeing them, fire appearing in his hands. He spoke in a hostile tone.

“Head Mage Ervine… and apprentice. What is the College doing _here?”_

Mirabelle responded diplomatically to him, Relthreyn tuning then both out as they walked through the hallway, coming into a room with a large circular machine of some sort taking up the majority of the room.

He climbed the ramp around the structure, trailing after the still conversing mages.

When he made it to the top, he looked out at the massive structure the dwarves had created.

He felt a spike of regret that Naya wasn’t well enough to come here with him. She would have loved it.

The top of the machine was made of strange focusing glasses attached to movable arms, all facing different direction, streams of concentrated light reflecting of their surfaces. The light hit the ceiling, where there were bluish circles of a strange mineral or alloy set on wide metal circlets that fit against the top of the room.

He was brought out by the creaking of the circlets as they started to move, Mirabelle working the controls.

“Relthreyn, I need you to cast Flames and Frostbite on the glass until the light reflects of the circles on the ceiling and into a concentrated beam.”

He did as he asked, once again tuning out the chatty Synod’s prattling as the light was passed through the magnifying glasses and was reconfigured to show a map of light on the wall. Observing it, he noticed it was brightest at Winterhold and an area in the mountains southeast Morthal.

That must be the Staff of Magnus.

* * *

While they were exiting Mzulft he was once again contacted by the Psijic Order.

Something had happened at the College.

* * *

They pushed their horses hard through the bitterly cold terrain. Worry was churning in Relthreyn’s stomach, making him feel sick.

He heard Mirabelle’s voice above the wind.

“That place on the map… It is the Labyrinthian. Savos went there when he was an apprentice with a group of other students. He returned alone. He has to know something about the Staff of Magnus.”

They urged their horses to run faster

* * *

Arriving at The College in record time, he was relieved to spot Naya in the crowd outside the Hall.

He slowed down to speak to her worry still running through his veins, Mirabelle running past him into the Hall.

“Ancano. He went insane. Go help.”

At her urging, he pushed down his concern and entered the Hall.

He saw a turquoise ward of magic, Mirabelle and Savos trying to push through in. He lit sparks in his hands, joining their efforts to break down the wards. As they cast, Mirabelle spoke,

“We should create an interlocked ward before we go in and enter cautiously, who knows what Ancano has done.”

If multiple mages cast together then the spells would resonate, creating an effect that was greater than the sum of its parts. It was a good idea, especially with them facing a crazed Thalmor agent that was most likely augmenting himself with a power magical artifact.

The barrier shuddered and fell. Inside could see Ancano casting a lightning spell at the Eye, his body surrounded by a turquoise aura that was growing stronger by the second.

They entered warily, the Arch-Mage in the front, combining their power to cast a three-layered ward.

Savos yelled out Ancano’s name.

The Altmer turned to them, a wild look in his eyes he thrust a hand to Savos, power consolidating in it.

No. He couldn’t let Savos die. He knew something about the Staff. And most importantly, he had information about his mother.

Relthreyn _shouted_ **“TID”,** using the slowed time to push Savos out of the way, Ancano's spell now screaming across the room towards him, before forcing himself to _shout_ **“FEIM”** to become ethereal. His voice was burning with agony due to him using his Thu’um in such rapid succession.

The spell struck him milliseconds after he turned ethereal, pain sparking throughout his system despite his intangibility.

The world went white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always found it really stupid that a veteran leader of a facility would run in by himself to confront a lunatic like a dumbass.


	14. Containment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The anomolies appear, Naya getting her first true taste of combat since the Temple. Reltheryn and one other leave for the Labyrinthian.

**Naya XI**

Naya let out a gasp as white light burst through the walls of the College, flinching back with the rest of the crowd. Terror appeared inside of her at the display, and at the thought of what could have happened to Relthreyn. There was a strange hissing sound as strange creatures seemed to appear in the air, looking like glowing blue-green comets emanating a turquoise aura, tails of pure magicka streaming behind them as they moved to attack Winterhold proper.

At the sign of danger, Naya’s first impulse was to find Relthreyn, like she’d always had since she had met him. She started to go towards the now glowing College before she stopped, freezing in her tracks.

No.

She would not.

There were people in danger, and she was in the position to help them. She had to trust that Relthreyn could handle himself, and she had to trust that she could do the same.

Ever since she had arrived in this world, she had only made her way through the kindness of strangers.

First Yaevis, then the Altmer, and now Relthreyn. She had never truly done something without having to lean on someone else.

It was time for her to stand on her own.

* * *

She ran down the bridge with the other members of the College. Naya knew that she wasn’t much good in direct combat, but she could always assist the ones that were and help heal the citizens of Winterhold.

She had begun learning some alteration along with restoration, though it hadn’t come as naturally as the healing branch had.

She cast Oakflesh, one of her two Alteration spells, on herself.

Naya quickly ran to a group of citizens trying to get indoors, an anomaly pursuing them. She dove in front of them her dagger striking the anomaly, a blood-red stream of vitality flowing into her as the enchantment on the blade activated. She turned to the terrified family and quickly cast healing hands on them, the burns and cuts from the anomaly she had warded off healing.

She knew that she should ask before casting magic on someone, but now was not the time to pander to people’s delicate sensibilities.

She waved them into the house, and turned to the still hissing anomaly, diving to the side as it dove after her, before leaping up and sinking her dagger into its center. Her blade sunk through the gel-like outer layer, before it struck a crystalline surface in the middle of it, the creature quickly collapsing as she fractured its core.

She quickly cast healing on herself to regain her stamina, she was still sick after all, and ran towards the shouts and magical bursts that heralded the epicenter of the conflict. Quickly casting Unseen, the only illusion spell she knew, on herself she crept around the battlefield striking at anomalies to weaken them, before disappearing again before they could locate her.

The anomalies were fast and nimble, having some measure of resistance to magic and steel, making them very difficult to kill.

She remembered the Blessing of Meridia. Relthreyn had said that it strengthened him so, maybe it would help the mages of the College as well. She appeared by Onmund and cast a ward in front of him to dissuade the anomalies giving him trouble, allowing him to cast healing on himself. Maintaining the Lesser Ward, she reached inside of herself, to the comforting warmth that pulsed beside her connection to Aetherious and began to emit a golden radiance.

Onmund’s healing spell grew brighter, and he looked visibly stronger, though not as strong as Reltheryn had. Surprisingly enough, the anomalies attacking them drew back slightly, weak flickers of magical fire appearing around them.

It burned enemies as well.

Good to know.

Wanting to make the most of the limited time she had before her aura faded – She had worked up to about two and a half minutes, she’d counted- Naya stuck close to the ones having the most trouble, healing them and providing defense so that they could attack.

Eventually, all the anomalies were puddles of magical goop in snow.

She was barely able to stand, out of magicka and out of breath. There was damage to the town and their people were wounded.

But Naya felt victorious.

She had defended herself. More than that, she had defended others.

For the first time since arriving to this realm, she felt confidence in her ability to protect herself.

* * *

**Relthreyn XIII**

Relthreyn awoke with a groan, pain radiating throughout his body. The rush of healing hands went through his system, clearing the blurriness from his eyes, pain fading slightly. He looked up to see Savos leaning over him, a concerned look on his face.

“That was a very foolish thing you did back there.”

“It saved your life, didn’t it?”

“Not only mine.” Savos turned to indicate Mirabelle, who was sitting against a pillar, watching them with intent eyes.

“You most likely saved hers as well. Thank you.”

He got the feeling that Savos was more grateful for Mirabelle’s life than his own.

“You're welcome. What happened?”

Savos stood up, lending him a supporting hand. He waved his hand at Ancano, who was still casting at the Eye of Magnus, a smaller ward encircling him and it.

“Ancano did. We need to get the Staff of Magnus before he achieves what ever he is trying to do.”

“We?”

“Yes. I’m coming with you to the Labyrinthian. Oh, don’t look so surprised, I’m sure you’ve figured out that I’ve been there before. This entire situation could have been averted if I had told you about the Staff from the start. I am coming with you.”

Mirabelle spoke, her tone thin with pain,

“Savos, you take too much upon yourself.”

“No. I don’t.”

He strode over to Mirabelle, helping her up with gentle hands, the golden aura of healing hands appearing around her.

“I need the Torc that I gave to you.”

“Oh yes… here it is.”

Mirabelle pulled out an ornate horseshoe shaped object, handing it to Savos. He took the object, before hesitating briefly, and spoke,

“Mirabelle, in my room on my nightstand there’s a wooden box with a letter on it. I would appreciate it if you would read it while we are gone.”

She stared at him for a moment, a tentative sort of hope appearing on her face.

“…Yes. I will.”

Savos turned to Relthreyn, who was studiously looking out one of the now cracked windows, trying to give the couple – because he was sure that’s what they were – a moment of privacy.

“Right. We’d best be off quickly. I’ll meet you at the bridge in half an hour, go pack.”

They separated, Relthreyn and Savos to go pack, and Maribelle to go coordinate to members of the College.

* * *

The second Relthreyn saw Naya, he felt relief.

She was alright.

She turned, apparently hearing his approach, the same expression appearing on her face. They stood for a second in silence, happy to see each other relatively unscathed after all that had happened before simultaneously moving to come together in a close embrace.

She spoke first,

“I am so happy you’re alright.”

He pulled her closer to himself, before releasing her.

“I need to go to the Labyrinthian. Then I can finish this.”

She looked concerned,

“The Staff of Magnus is there?”

“Yes… Savos is going with me. Mirabelle is staying here to lead the College in his absence.”

“So they both made it.”

They were silent for a few more moments, the sounds of Relthreyn packing oddly loud in the empty room.

He turned to see her holding out Dawnbreaker, the mystical sword shining through its sheath.

He hesitated, before taking it. She wouldn’t have offered if she hadn’t felt that he needed it more than she, and he trusted her judgement.

“Relthreyn… please be careful.”

He picked up his bag, preparing to leave, briefly embracing her again.

“I will be.”

* * *

Ten minuets later, he and Savos were off to the Labyrinthian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted Savos to live. If you're wondering about Mirabelle, here's a hint: I'm a sucker for a happy ending.


	15. The Labyrinthian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The College handles Ancano the best they can, Relthreyn and Savos confront the past.

**Naya XII**

She watched Relthreyn exited the room, fear running through her as she realized they were at the last leg of this quest. What they did now would determine their fates.

Naya stood up determined to find out what she could do to help.

She walked out into the courtyard to find Mirabelle walking out to the courtyard, pocketing a piece of paper as she moved, to begin organizing an evacuation from the College. As Mirabelle began to speak, Naya studied her. She looked worn and tired; her eyes rimmed with red as if she had been weeping. Peeking out from under her robes’ collar, Naya detected a necklace glimmering with magicka that hadn’t been there before.

Coming out of her daze, Naya listened to Mirabelle’s order.

“Tolfdir, Onmund, I need you to go speak to the Jarl about this. You’re Nords, maybe he’ll listen to you. Colette, Naya, go offer to heal the people of Winterhold hurt in the attack, if anyone asks what happened, blame everything on Ancano. We need the people to cooperate with us if we are going to help them.”

An Altmer, Nirya, came running out of the hall.

“The ward’s expanding!”

“Right. Everyone to the entrance of the bridge. We will try to stop the expansion there.”

* * *

There was a reason why rituals were always conducted in circle. It was the easiest way for a group of mages to combine their power and focus in into a single point.

They stood around a font, channeling their magicka into it, the wellspring greedily sucking it in.

They would anchor their counter-ward there. They couldn’t stop Ancano, but they could delay him until Reltreyn and the Arch-Mage returned.

Magic combined; they shaped the power into a powerful ward. The font glowed brightly for a moment, before subduing, and ancient stone now glinting with a mellow blue light.

When Ancano’s magic encountered it, it would activate, forming a barrier to slow his progression.

The turquoise ward for the College was expanding slowly so they had some time. This new ward was in place to buy them more.

* * *

Naya knew that the College was not well liked by the local populace, but _wow_ these people took dislike to a whole knew level. Originally being stubborn and refusing to listen to mere mages – despite their magical expertise- they eventually abated when Collette told them in excruciating detail what would happen to them if they came into contact with that ward.

However, their grumbles had abated entirely when they informed them of Ancano’s involvement. Mirabelle knew what she was talking about when she told them to use the Thalmor agent as a scapegoat, the people disliked the College but they absolutely despised the Thalmor, and it was apparently well known that the College didn’t like the Dominion all that much as well.

With initial hostilities out of the way, Tolfdir and Onmund went to speak to the jarl – who was apparently Onmund’s uncle, who knew? - before the rest of the College scattered to go help townsfolk, she and Colette going to offer restorative services.

The hours blurred together as she moved from one person to the next, healing those damaged by the initial shockwave and anomalies, before moving on to soothe those who just needed healing in general.

Naya made a mental note to tell Mirabelle about the people’s gratefulness. They distrusted magic, but loved healers. Maybe she could use that sentiment to help connect the College to the local populace. If Maribelle could get the people on the side of the College, the jarl would (eventually) be forced to follow.

Naya healed her last patient – a child whose arm had been severely burned by the anomalies- before rushing off to find Colette, downing a stamina potion a colleague had handed her when he saw her flagging. There had to be something else she could do.

* * *

**Relthreyn XIV**

He had been travelling with Savos for a few days before he finally gathered the courage to ask his fellow Dunmer the question.

“How did you know my mother?”

There was silence for a time, Relthreyn almost thinking that Savos wasn’t going to answer.

“She was my sister’s daughter.”

What. Savos was his granduncle?!

_“You’re my granduncle?!”_

“Yes.” There was silence for a few moments before he continued.

“Virvdasi felt betrayed, and rightfully so, after she was exiled from the tribe. You see, my sister was the Ashkhan at the time, and she has a virulent hatred for the Great Houses. When Virvdasi became pregnant with you due to her affair with a man of the Houses and refused to give you up she disowned her. She was the one who exiled your mother, the banishment lasting for a full century. Most in the family disagreed with her, but the word of the Ashkhan is law. Your mother cut off all contact with us, and I… I eventually left the tribe. I could never understand how Nacune had done that to her own daughter and grandson.”

He was in shock. His mother had never really spoken about her past beyond his parentage, only that she had been kicked out of her tribe. Even when exiled, you were still allowed contact with your family. From the lack of contact, he had assumed that everyone in her former tribe had hated her and by association, him. Relthreyn was closer to his second century than his first, so his mother could have gone back to her home. To hear that her family had still cared for her, that she had to option to return… it changed the way he saw some things.

And if he has honest with himself, he was happy to know he had family that didn’t hate him.

* * *

Pushing onwards, they made it to the Labyrinthian within the next two days.

Savos had been growing increasingly melancholic on their journey, clearly dreading returning to the ruin.

The Labryinthian lived up to its name. It was a sprawling ruin set upon the slopes of the northern mountains; half buried in snow. The stone pillars and arches of the ancient city loomed over them, casting ominous shadows into the frosty earth. They dismounted their horses, leading them to a nearby crevice in the rock where the animals would have to protection from the numerous predators and harsh weather of Skyrim.

He and Savos were silent as they trekked through the snow, the Arch-Mage leading the way to the entrance of the ruin. There were a few frost trolls milling about, but they were dispatched easily from a distance via fire magic.

Savos fitted the Torc to the elaborate door of the ruin. They entered.

* * *

The first room of they Labyrinthian was musty, stinking with decay. There were skeleton’s scattered on the ground, their bare fingers eternally reaching for the exit. They had clearly been running from something.

He heard a ghostly voice.

_“Come on, we’re finally here! Let’s not waste any more time!”_

He looked up seeing a spectral group of mages at the end of the room. There at the head was a younger version of Savos. Shocked, Relthreyn turned to the current version of the man, only to see him staring mournfully at the shades.

The argonian specter spoke next,

_“Are you truly sure this is a good idea?”_

The female Breton was next,

_“We’ll be back at the college before anyone knows we’re gone.”_

The male Breton responded to her,

_“You would care about that, since you’re the Arch-Mage’s favorite.”_

The younger Savos spoke next,

_“Don’t forget this whole idea was Atmah’s to begin with.”_

Lastly, the nord spoke,

_”Let’s just go inside, see what’s in there.”_

The specters vanished.

Those were magical imprints, they only formed after events that had caused great sorrow. The emotions and magic of the people involved forming spectral copies that were doomed to repeat the sorry tale until the source of the pain was vanquished.

What in Azura’s name had happened here?

Relthreyn turned to face Savos, the Dunmer showing a mixture of guilt and anguish.

“Atmah, Takes-In-Light, Elvali, Girduin, and Hafnar. Out of the five of us I was to only to make it out alive. My greatest failure. I never meant for any of this to happen. I tried to lock it up, seal it away forever, but it now it all comes out again…”

Relthreyn looked at the anguished form of his granduncle, the elf clearly still haunted by whatever had occurred here.

He didn’t know what had happened, but he was clearly about to find out.

* * *

_"I can't believe we're doing this."_

_"Can you imagine the looks on their faces when we come back?"_

_"You keep talking like you're sure we'll find something useful in here."_

_"Given the history of this place, it's more than likely there's still some amount of power here."_

_"Enchanted weapons, tomes of ancient knowledge, Shalidor's secrets themselves -- who knows what we could find!"_

_"And what if... What if there are things guarding this place?"_

_"Against six College-trained mages? I think we'll be fine."_

They witnessed another conversation between the specters, Savos looking more haggard as the conversation continued.

"There were six of us. Full of ambition, eager to conquer the world. It was Atmah's idea to come here, at first. She talked me into it, and I convinced the others. We were sure we'd find it all here, hidden away from time. Power, knowledge... All the things we didn't want to wait for. We thought it would be so simple."

Relthreyn listened to Savos’s mournful tale, a feeling of dread building in his chest as they approach a gate with a multitude of skeletons on the other side of it. This must have been where the first of them died.

Savos spoke before Relthreyn opened the gate.

“There is reanimated dragon in there. Be wary.”

“It’s a good thing I’m the Dragonborn then. You take the skeletons and I’ll take care of the dragon?”

Steeling himself for the upcoming battle Savos nodded in agreement.

They entered the chamber.

Savos immediately lit the first skeleton aflame, conjuring a ward to negate the frostbite spell of another before vaporizing it was an overcharged lightning spell. Seeing that Savos had the lesser undead well in hand, Relthreyn turned his attention towards the dragon in the room.

He dodged the frost breath of the beast before returning fire with a flame spell, the skeletal dragon was large and powerful, but its size made it cumbersome and slow. Relthreyn retreated alongside the dragon, making it awkwardly turn its head to try and freeze him. _Shouting_ **“TID”** , Relthreyn used the slowed time to dodge another ice burst, before sliding under along the now icy floor under the draconic lich’s head stabbing up through its chin with Dawnbreaker, the daedric weapon letting out a fiery explosion, the light of the sword breaking the spell keeping it animate. The undead creature collapsed into a pile of ancient bones. It had no soul for Relthreyn to absorb.

Relthreyn cast a healing spell on himself to heal the frost burns he had gained form his fight with the dragon, before turning to Savos who was staring at the now permanently dead beast with an almost vengeful look of satisfaction.

They continued onwards, coming across the echoes once more. 

_"We... we have to go back. We can't leave Girduin..."_

_"We barely made it out alive, and you want to go back in?"_

_"It's too late. There isn't enough of him left to go back in after."_

_"Gods, what have we done?"_

_"We can't go back. Might as well go forward. We can still do this."_

_"Savos is right. We can make it if we just stay alert."_

Continuing his narration, Savos spoke,

"Girduin died first. It happened so fast, none of us had a chance to react. One moment we joked about what we'd find below, the next he'd been ripped in half. And then we were all fighting just to survive. None of us were prepared. It was amazing the rest of us survived. When it was over, Atmah, Hafnar and I stared, pale-faced, at one another, unwilling to admit we'd made a terrible mistake. We could have turned back. It could have ended there. But we kept going."

* * *

They continued deeper still, killing the spectral undead inhabiting the doomed city before a blue rush of power howled through the air, draining their magicka, a voice growling out

**_"Wo meyz wah dii vul junaar?"_ **

_Who comes to my dark kingdom?_

Relthreyn turned to Savos in question, the other Dunmer paling to a light grey. He said one word.

“Morokei.”

_Glorious_

After the reveal of his status of Dragonborn, Relthreyn had thrown himself into the study of the history of the dragons, hoping to find some insight into just what he was born in to. He knew very well what that word meant.

“A Dragon Priest. We must fight a Dragon Priest.”

Honestly, Relthreyn was impressed that his great uncle had gotten out of here alive the first time, if a Dragon Priest was what he had to face.

“Yes. Just to leave this place alive, I had to… well, you’ll know when we get there.”

* * *

They had slain the frost spirit inhabiting the room, entering in to a dark, cavernous area, a great chasm leading downwards, when Morokei spoke again,

**_"Nivahriin muz fent siiv nid aaz het."_ **

_Cowardly men shall find no mercy here._

Shaking of the magicka drain, they crept down wards, conjuring bows to kill the dragur wandering the area, eventually reaching a forked brifge hanging over stagnant water, the voice echoing out again.

**_“You do not answer…must I use this guttural language of yours?”_ **

They pressed onward, walking through the water, not responding to the voice of the Dragon Priest before reaching a heavy wooden door.

**_“Have you returned, Aren? My old friend?”_ **

****

Morokei remembered him.

Relthreyn saw Savos closed his eyes for a moment breathing in deeply, before exhaling. He pushed open the door leading them deeper into the Labyrinthian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of Savos' narration about his regrets is unused dialogue from the game.


	16. Morokei

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes face a Dragon Priest.

**Relthreyn XV**

**_“Do you seek to finish that which you could not?”_ **

****

They were in a large, cavernous room, a gate formed of iron spike blocking them from the other side of the room.

Savos whispered,

“On the other side of the gate, past the graveyard, is a Wispmother. She won’t appear until we get to the raised area, if you go to far towards the next chamber a Fire Spirit will appear.”

Damn. Wisp Mothers were nearly impossible to deal with, with their penchant for duplicating themselves. Maybe they could use the Fire Spirit…?

“Is the Spirit hostile to the Wisps?”

“No.” After a moment of thoughtful silence, Savos continued. “If you keep the wisps away from me, I can destroy the Wispmother.”

Yes. Relthreyn could do that.

He alighted his hands with firebolts and sniped the skeletons from his position, Savos following heartbeats after with bolts of lightning. They approached the gate, Morokei speaking once again,

**_“You only face failure once more.”_ **

****

“He talks a lot, doesn’t he.”

Savos snorted, a rueful smile appearing on his face.

“Yes, he does.”

Magicka regenerated, they continued towards the graveyard, glowing wisps streaking between the ancient head stones.

Relthreyn strode forwards to the raised platform behind, the Wispmother awakening at his approach. She immediately sent an array of ice spikes at him, Relthreyn dodging to the side to avoid him, _shouting_ **“FEIM”** , the blue of the ether tinting his world.

He turned to the wisps, retreating back towards the gate, luring them away from their mother. The Wispmother’s screech of pain heralding his retreat, Savos attacking her. He heard the distinct sound of conjuration but, distracted by his agile foes as he was, couldn’t see how Savos was fairing.

The wisps were easy, if incredibly tedious opponents. They ate away at his magic when they struck him so, he opted to set them on fire with the last of his magic and then finish them off with Dawnbreaker.

He made his way back to Savos just in time to see him finish the Wispmother with a powerful fire spell, by his side a _\- was that a Dremora Lord?_

Damn. His granduncle was powerful.

Dremora Lords were notoriously hard to subdue. It was why there were so few true Masters of Conjuration out in the world. Many tried to subjugate them, the fell creatures being extraordinarily powerful and impossible to turn against the conjurer once loyal, but most died in the process.

He made it to Savos just as the Dremora disappeared back to Oblivion with a crackle of magic.

“Let’s get going.”

They continued towards the area with the Fire Spirit, Morokei once again speaking,

**_“You have grown stronger. Good. That power will be your undoing. It will only serve to strengthen me.”_ **

Their magic was once again drained away, forcing them to engage the Fire Spirit in close quarters. Fortunately, they were both Dunmer so killing the being wasn’t exactly difficult.

They approached another door, Savos’s ghosts appearing once more.

_"_ _Come on, we can't stop now. We have to keep moving!"_

_"Where's Elvali? She was right behind me."_

_"Dead. Something grabbed her from behind. Gone before I could do anything."_

_"This is insanity. We never should've come here."_

_"You're right. This is all my fault. Should we turn around, head back?"_

_"I don't think going back is a good idea."_

_"Going back would be the end of all of us. We keep pushing forward, and we'll make it. We will!"_

_"Come on, you can make it. Let's go."_

He spoke, voice heavy with regret.

"There were only three of us left. Takes-In-Light just sat down and gave up, and we left her there to die. I've no idea what killed her, but I'm sure something did. Atmah cried to herself. Hafnar wouldn't look at either of us. And I kept telling them it would be all right. I was in charge now. I pushed them on, insisting it would be worse to try and go back. What happened after was my fault. All mine."

With this grim statement, they continued deeper.

* * *

They came to a wide room with a Word Wall and Deathlord in it, a spectral war hound by its side.

Savos struck out with fire, killing the spectral animal instantly, and Relthreyn stepped forward to engage the Deathlord as it rushed towards them, _shouting_ **“TIID”** to slow time. He could feel the heat of Savos’s fire magic streaming over his shoulder as he pushed the Deathlord back, disarming it just as time returned to normal. He then dropped Dawnbreaker to his left as the Deathlord staggered back to its feet, anticipating the Disarming shout it used next. He ducked to the side to avoid a powerful blow, hearing Savos charge a spell, the green bolt of paralysis hitting the Deathlord. He retrieved Dawnbreaker and stabbed the animate corpse through the heart, the fiery sword disintegrating it.

He inspected the pile of ashes, seeing something glinting in it. Reaching down he retrieved an Amulet of Talos. He quickly hung it around his neck, happy for the magical assist with the Thu’um.

Speaking of the Voice, he could hear the chanting of the Word Wall. He walked towards the Wall, the chanting enthralling him as knowledge poured into his mind.

**KLO**

_Sand_

He blinked as color returned to his world, a curious Savos now standing at his side.

“What was that?” Savos paused and shook his head. “No, don’t tell me now. Tell me if we get out of here.”

“When.”

“What?”

“When we get out of here. I’ve no intention of letting either of us die.”

They walked out of the room. As they approached the hallway Morokei spoke for one last time.

**_“Come. Face your end.”_ **

****

* * *

_"We shouldn't have left her there to die!"_

_"What else could we do? Stay there and die with her? She refused to go on, we didn't have a choice!"_

_"This is it, you know. Through this door. Can you feel it?"_

_"We're not going to make it, are we?"_

_"We stay together, no matter what. Agreed?"_

_"I'll be right with you."_

_"Agreed. We all stay together."_

"We all knew this was the end. Without even opening the door, we knew what was behind it would kill us. None of our spells were potent enough, none of our wills were strong enough. "No matter what, we stay together", Hafnar said. I looked him in the eyes and lied to him."

* * *

The Dumer, elder and younger stood outside the chamber that held the Dragon Priest.

Inside were two enthralled wizards, their souls being used as channels to Aetherious, the power generated keeping to lich contained. It was an amazing, terrible feat of magic, what Savos had done. To bewitch two wizards while fighting for your life, and then to use them to bind a Dragon Priest? It was terrible what he had done, but amazing, nonetheless.

Tearing his eyes away from the sight, Relthreyn faced his guilt-stricken granduncle.

“Savos. You’ve fought this thing before. How do you propose we do this?”

* * *

_“Morokei favors lightning, but he will use fire and ice from time to time.”_

Relthreyn strode into the room, making for the enthralled wizards, destroying each of them with Dawnbreaker, freeing Morokei.

_“First you need to unbind Atmah and Hafnar. Just send them on with Dawnbreaker. It’s the most merciful thing you could do after this much time.”_

He dove away form the power streaming from the Staff of Magnus in Morokei’s hand, returning fire with a few overcharged fireballs, the lich’s armor absorbing the elemental attack. The power of the blows forced the floating corpse back slightly, confirming to Relthreyn that Morokei’s mage armor mainly absorbed elemental damage, not force.

_”Morokei’s armor will absorb single element attacks. He will reconstitute himself if he is struck with a weapon. The only way to kill him is in one decisive blow.”_

The lich summoned a lightning atronach, Relthreyn summoning a flame atronach to combat it. He dodged another strike from the Staff of Magnus, before casting Ironflesh on himself and conjuring a bow. He shot a Morokei hitting it squarely in the forehead, the lich staggered back, black ichor dripping from the wound as it sealed itself. Relthreyn ran for ground level, Morokei approaching him as he made it down, sending streams of lightning around beams from the Staff in Relthreyn’s direction, the elf diving around the bolts. He heard an explosion, signifying the death of the atronachs.

_“It is imperative that you are not hit by the Staff. It drains magic and vitality, adding to Morokei’s power. He cannot be allowed to gain more strength.”_

Relthreyn made for the low walkway in the center of the room and fell with a cry of pain, bound bow fading away, a burst of electric power having knocked him harshly to the ground. He pushed himself up on one arm, shunting magicka down it as runes blossoming under his fingertips, drawing Dawnbreaker with the other hand. 

Morokei approached the wounded elf, scenting victory in the air.

Relthreyn sidestepped another stream from the Staff, the beam crackling next to his ear. His back was burning with agony.

He had to end it quickly, he couldn’t keep this up for long.

_“Lure him to the low pathway, and strike when his is over the rune. Tell me, how many Shouts can you do in rapid succession?”_

Morokei hovered between Relthreyn and his faintly glowing rune, having avoided it when he approached. He was surrounded by a cloak of lightning, glowing with magical power.

Perfect.

Reltthreyn summoned his Wrath, super heating Dawnbreaker, and lunged forwards, _shouting_ **“TIID”**. Ignoring the lightning burns forming on his body, he ducked under a stream of lightning before leaping up, sending the sword through the lich’s chest impaling him. Relthreyn used his body weight to force the lich to the ground, the supernaturally sharp and now white-hot sword slicing through the ancient earth like butter, pining Morokei on the cushioning rune he had cast earlier. Bracing himself for the agony of overusing his Voice, Relthreyn _shouted_ **“ WULD”** combining his residual momentum from pining Morokei with his Thu’um induced speed to get out of range as Savos came plummeting down from the walkway Morokei was impaled under, a tri-elemental spell in hand, having used the time Relthreyn had been distracting the Dragon Priest to get in position and cast the spell.

Holding a shaking hand to his agonized throat, Relthreyn watched the supercharged spell impacted the lich, utterly vaporizing it on impact as an almighty rumble shook the room.

After all these years, Morokei was finally vanquished.


	17. Absolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Savos comes to terms with the past. Winterhold is in dire straits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys. Short chapter.

**Relthreyn XVI**

_"...I'm sorry, friends. I'm so sorry! I had no choice! It was the only way to make sure that monster never escaped! I promise you, I'll never let this happen again! I'll seal this whole place away..."_

The apparition vanished, never to be seen again.

"I had no choice, don't you see? I had to leave them behind, had to sacrifice them so I could make it out alive. If we'd all died there, if we'd loosed the thing on the world, who knows what might have happened? That's how I consoled myself for years, after I'd sealed this place shut and vowed never to let anyone open it. Now we've put it all to rest, but it can't undo my mistakes. They can never be undone..."

The elf was crumbling under the weights of his past sins. Seeing the Arch-Mage’s anguished demeanor, Relthreyn came to a decision.

“Savos…Uncle. It wasn’t your fault. Not completely. Yes, you urged the group onwards, and yes you sacrificed your friends to bind Morokei, but you fail to consider the good you’ve done. You couldn’t turn back, the enemies you made it past would have slaughtered you if you had returned. You sacrificed your friends, that much is true, but you bound Morokei, keeping him from wreaking havoc on the world. You’ve kept the Labyrinthian sealed all these years to keep others from same fate. You’ve done horrible things, I won’t deny that, but you need to consider the other side of it too.”

The other elf let in a shaky inhale before he continued out of the room, Relthreyn trailing behind him.

* * *

There were two ghosts standing in front of the door leading out of the ruins.

Savos spoke in an astonished whisper,

“Atmah! Hafnar!” 

_“Savos…”_

Relthreyn quietly exited the ruins to give the trio some privacy, waiting by the door for his grand uncle.

Eventually, Savos emerged looking worn, but lighter.

“It went well?”

“Yes. Very well.”

* * *

As they trekked through the now knee-high snow, back to their hopefully still alive horses a thought struck Relthreyn.

“… Does this make Mirabelle my great Aunt? I’ve never had an great aunt younger than me before. Actually, I’ve never had an aunt period.”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, whatever was in that wooden box you mentioned was your Offering to her, you’re both going through your Trials, and” He gestured at the mask of Morokei attached to Savos’s belt, the Staff being on Relthreyn’s (now mostly healed) back “ you’re bringing back a Token of victory. If that’s not a proposal, then I don’t know what is.”

“…You should respect your elders.”

He mounted his (thankfully alive) horse before heading off at a canter.

His cheeks were stained a faint reddish purple. Noticeably, he didn’t deny it.

That was a definite yes in Relthreyn’s book.

* * *

**Naya XIII**

The ward was expanding further.

It was pressed up against the counter ward the Colllege had created, white sparks leaping out where they came into contact, intermingling wit the falling snow. They had finally managed to convince the Jarl to prepare for a possible evacuation, though knwing the stubborn Nord he wouldn’t issue the order until the last possible moment.

It had been ten days since Relthreyn and Arch-Mage Aren had left for the Labyrinthian, and they had to be returning soon. They had to be, the other option… was to horrible to even contemplate.

It had been a trying ten days.

More magical anomalies had propagated in the town, attacking citizen and mage alike. These past ten-days had been a constant blur of defending, healing, and rebuilding as each new wave of anomalies appeared.

The only good thing to come out of this mess was the lessening hostilities of the towns people to the mages. The College were the best source of defense Winterhold had, regardless if the problem had began there, and the citizens of the town couldn’t afford to alienate them, and they knew that. At first it was a begrudging truce between the two groups, the mages healing and defending, the city providing food and shelter. But the bonds built upon necessity would not be denied, and after ten days of living, fighting, a healing alongside one another, a tentative sort of camaraderie had formed.

Well, at least that camaraderie had formed after Mirabelle’s sacrifice.

The anomalies had originally attacked the College’s ward from their side, due to the fact that they appeared outside of Ancano’s ward. They had flooded the town, distracting the benevolent mages from strengthening their ward, and had almost succeeded in breaking it. Mirabelle had forgone personal defense, and ran through the line, up the bridge and had made direct contact with the union point between the two wards, and pushed all of her formidable power into it, in a bid to keep the ward from falling. It had worked, but Mirabelle had been unconscious ever since, glowing with the same turquoise light that The Eye generated. Naya and Colette had spent most of their time at Mirabelle’s side, keeping her alive.

The only thing that could bring her out of the coma was the Staff.

After that very public display of selflessness, the people of Winterhold’s attitude had been a lot less begrudging and a little more welcoming.

As she had heard one of the (substantially) more tolerant townsfolk say, _‘The College may be a group of deranged mages, but they were Winterhold’s deranged mages.'_

Newfound harmony aside, Naya knew they couldn’t keep this up for much longer.

* * *

It was the next day when Arch-Mage Aren and Relthreyn had arrived back. They rode into Winterhold just as the College started fighting yet another wave of anomalies.

Announcing themselves with a bolt of lightning and a beam of white-turquoise light respectively, the battle quickly shifted in Winterhold’s favor. The Arch-Mage immediately took charge,

“What’s happend?”

“The ward is expanding, Mirabelle is in a coma, and the anomalies are spawning faster every day.”

Wow. Arch-Mage Aren and Relthreyn looked _pissed._

The Arch-Mage gestured over Tolfdir and Faralda, Relthreyn hefting a beautiful stave both ends having the same material the Eye was made out of. The lower point of the staff was capped with a pointed material, while the upper a sphere, with carved crescents of wood encircling it.

Together, the group of mages made their way to the clashing barriers.


	18. Ancano

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ancano is vanquished. Winterhold rebuilds. Our heros leave.

**Relthreyn XVII**

Reltreyn had just broken the wards with the Staff of Magnus. The group rapidly advanced across the courtyard, discussing a plan as they neared Ancano.

Essentially, Relthreyn was once again going to be bait. Since he had the Staff of Magnus, he was immune to any spells Ancano used via the Eye. The only was Ancano could hurt him was by attacking him personally. He would go into the Hall of the Elements first and keep Ancano’s attention focused on him, the others would enter shortly after and aid from a distance.

He stood in front of the door to the Hall, wincing as he drew on his now overused magic. Between the Labyrinthian, the frantic trip back the Winterhold – where he had constantly used healing to replenish his and his horses stamina to make it back quickly-, and the immediate fight upon arrival, his body was really feeling the effects of over channeling his power, not helped by the massive amount of lightning damage he had received from Morokei.

He was so tired.

He ruthlessly ignored it. He had to kill Ancano. Just one more fight.

Relthreyn had entered the Hall, and upon seeing the deranged elf, immediately hit him with a lightning spell. The spell didn’t seem to hurt him, but it definitely got Ancano’s attention. The Altmer struck back, and the battle commenced.

His first strike was a wave of paralyzing magic emanating from the Eye. The power washed over Relthreyn without touching him, the Staff glowing briefly as the magic came into contact with him.

The Eye opened, revealing a dense pool of magicka within, from it streaming a horde of magical anomalies.

Ancano was invulnerable to all of his attacks. Once he realized this, Relthreyn stopped attacking to preserve his magicka, and focused of defense. His mind whirled, trying to find a way through Ancano’s invulnerability. The words of the Augur came back to him.

_‘To see through Magnus’ Eye without being blinded, you will require his staff.”_

Maybe if used the Staff of the Eye?

Relthreyn _shouted_ **“FEIM”** becoming impervious to Ancano’s lightning blast, and hefted the Staff, shooting a beam of energy the Eye, closing it and leaving Ancano vulnerable. An overcharged firebolt streamed into the room, impacting and destroying one of the anomalies. Good, his backup was here.

Anomalies distracted by his allies, Relthreyn focused on Ancano attacking in earnest, keeping the elf away from the Eye so that he would not reopen it. The elf way very fond of powerful destruction magic, but with the Staff in hand he was hardly a challenge. Relthreyn drained the Thalmor agent of his magic, and as the elf attempted to retreat to the Eye, he used a full powered Unrelenting Force on him. The Altmer flew across the room, impacting the wall with a thud. Abandoning the Staff, Relthreyn lunged after him and stabbed him through the heart with Dawnbreaker.

Relthreyn collapsed against a pillar, the events of the past month finally catching up to him.

He was so tired.

* * *

The Psijic Order had taken the Eye away, saying something about “the world not being ready for it” but Relthreyn was too exhausted to follow the conversation. He closed his eyes and just basked in the ability to be still. His body was throbbing with aches and pains, his pool of magic was raw from lightning damage and constant use, and he was still worried about what had happened in his and Savos’ absence.

There was a comforting stream of healing magic, and his eyes opened, red meeting copper. Naya was kneeling in front of him, her power sending waves of respite through his body.

“Can you get up? You’ll feel better in a bed.”

He grimaced.

“Yes. Yes, just give me a hand.”

She pulled him up with steady hands and he leaned on her as they made their way out of the Hall. As they made their way to his room, a thought struck him.

“The Staff…”

“Don’t worry. The Arch-Mage has it. Just rest.”

He lay on his bed, cast his worries aside, and slept.

* * *

**Naya XIV**

She saw the barriers fall with a shudder, the small group passing through.

Naya and the other members of the College turned back to caring for the citizens of Winterhold, quickly wrapping up the worst of it, before half of the group went up to the College to see how things had fared.

There were no more anomalies and the ward had not come back up, so there was a tentative hope for victory in the air.

Naya made it to the Hall of Elements just in time to see Psijics materializing to surround the Eye. She ignored them, eyes scanning the damaged Hall looking for her friend. She found him slumped against the pillar near Ancano’s corpse, Staff of Magnus, and Dawnbreaker scattered on the ground before him. She ran to him, fear spiking, until she noticed he was breathing.

He looked terrible, exhaustion evident in every line of his body. His usually orderly hair had escaped its ties, hanging in tangled strands around his angular face. He eyes had purple bags under them, like he hadn’t got any sleep, days old growth of stubble dotting his face.

She quickly grabbed the Staff and handed it off to the Arch-Mage, managing a quiet “heal Mirabelle” as she gave it to him. She went back to Relthreyn and cast a very low powered healing hands, not wanting to strain his no doubt over used magicka reserves.

He opened his eyes, slowly focusing on her.

“Can you get up? You’ll feel better in bed.”

“Yes. Yes, just give me a hand.”

As she helped him up, she noticed that there were strange lightning patterned marks on the parts of his skin that she could see.

_‘Lichtenberg figures? What had he faced in the Labyrinthian?’_

Supporting Relthreyn, she led him to his bed so he could get some rest.

After he had fallen asleep, she looked over his wounds. They were barely closed enough to keep from bleeding, and with the condition Relthreyn’s magic was in, they were going to have to heal naturally until his magicka recovered from his overuse.

She cracked her knuckles and got down to work.

It was her turn to care for him.

* * *

After healing Relthreyn as best she could, Naya hurried back down to Winterhold.

The fight was over, and now they had to deal with the aftermath. And as all aftermaths were, in some ways it was worse than the event it had stemmed from.

Now that the Eye was gone, they could focus on rebuilding the town itself. Alteration mages helped to rebuild damaged building, working with those who specialized in enchantment to fortify. They wanted to make sure that if and when there was another incident, the city would have greater protection than could be cobbled together in a few days.

As for restoration mages such as herself, they went to look back over the people they had healed during the fighting. It had been long hours of thankless work, and there was only so much they could do. Those who were killed in the attack had to be buried, and their affairs set in order. Those that had survived had to be re-examined with a closer eye in order to detect the side effect of the power of the Eye.

And there were aftereffects.

People who had never used magic in their lives now found their natural magicka pools greatly expanded and acting up. Mages who had honed their abilities now found their proficiencies changed, some in good ways others in bad. It was a mixed bag, for every benign effect, a malicious one. For every blessing, a curse.

It seemed that the entire city of Winterhold had been impacted by this event. The Eye may have been gone, but its presence was still felt. And it would continue to be for years to come.

* * *

Mirabelle had woken up. The Staff of Magnus having purged whatever the Eye had done to her from her system. She was still weak, confined to bed and prohibited from magic usage, but she was alive. Relthreyn had awoken as well, though he was in much better condition, his main issue being exhaustion from pushing himself so hard.

He had told her about what had happened at the Labyrinthian, and of the revelations about his family. She was happy for him, maybe now he would feel less alone.

The College had settled into a comfortable pattern of repairing the college building and reaching out to Winterhold itself.

As for herself and Relthreyn, they left.

Ancano was a Thalmor agent. He had died in exceptional circumstances. They had to leave before more agents came through.

Mirabelle and Arch-Mage Aren had seen them off, their conversation brief.

“Here.” The Arch-Mage handed them both a bag of septims, Relthreyn’s larger than hers. “Your wages. You both operated as members of the staff during part of your time here and deserve the appropriate payment.”

Mirabelle spoke next,

“Know that you will always be welcome here, especially after your assistance with the Eye. As for you Naya, I’ve provided you with more spell tomes, as well as an introductory book on enchanting.”

“Thank you, Mirabelle.”

“We must be off now.” Relthreyn hesitated for a moment, turning to his uncle “…I’ll keep in contact with you.”

He helped Naya onto her horse before swinging on top of his own. He turned back to the duo.

“Congratulations, by the way.”

Was that a blush she detected on Mirabelle’s face? Oh, that was actually very sweet.

They rode out of the town, making for Windhelm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lichtenburg figures are actually really interesting. Reltrhreyn's came from when he jumped into range of Morokei's lightning cloak.


	19. The Road to Windhelm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relthreyn and Naya have a jovial trip to the City of Kings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. Another short chapter, but it was necessary.

**Naya XV**

Unlike their previous travels, the trip to Windlhelm was light-hearted and tranquil. Well, tranquil by Nirn standards. Meaning that the weather was relatively calm, and they only got attacked by the hostile fauna and bandits three times.

* * *

“Wow. That is a **big** spider.”

Relthreyn ducked under a disgusting ball of poison and shot Naya an irritated look.

“Then why don’t you come and help me kill it?!”

Naya gave him a nonchalant look from her comfortable perch on top of her horse, holding onto the reins of his equine to keep it from running away.

“You didn’t help me with those skeevers.”

_“That was months ago -_ You know what. To Oblivion with this thing. **FUS RO DAH**!”

The spider flew off into the horizon.

“I hate rodents, and you know it. And you just sat back and laughed at me the first time I saw one.”

“Again, that was _months_ ago, its _Midyear_ , that happened in the beginning of _First Seed!”_

“I screamed. Like a child. You knew there would be skeevers there, and you didn’t warn me!”

They continued down their path, jovial bickering filling the frosty air.

* * *

There was a hand shaking her shoulder, a hushed voice calling,

“Naya, wake up. I want to show you something.”

She groaned, reluctant to move from her warm bedroll.

“…Relthreyn?... It’s still dark out…”

“Come on, you won’t regret it.”

She rolled out of the comforting warmth of her sleeping are and sleepily tugged a thick coat on.

“Follow me. Be very quiet.”

She blearily followed after him, barely having the presence of mind to keep silent. She could see Relthreyn’s silhouette in front of her, the elf quietly leading them down a path that only he knew. They arrived at a cluster of trees, Relthreyn whispering for her to look through the snow dusted foliage.

There was a faint hissing sound through the trees, and as Naya peered through she was struck speechless.

There over a frozen pond, were two ice wraiths, glimmering in the light of the moons. They were glowing, casting shimmering blue light across the frosty landscape. They moved sinuously through the air, delicately twirling around each other in a beautiful, intricate dance.

Naya’s voice emerged in an awed whisper

“What is this… they’re beautiful.”

“Every Midyear, the ice wraiths court each other to find a mate. An ice wraith mating dance is one of the most beautiful things in Skyrim, and its incredibly rare to see.”

Naya smiled, glad that she could share this moment with him. That he had wanted to share this with her.

They leaned into each other, huddling in the snow, watching the beautiful creatures spin through the air.

* * *

A magical explosion shook the air.

Safe behind Naya’s shimmering ward, Relthreyn was trying and failing to smother his laughter.

“Wow..um. Just…wow. I’ve never seen a spell backfire that bad before.”

Naya shot the snickering Dunmer an unamused look.

“How about you stop laughing and _help me._ ”

They had been at it for hours, Relthreyn attempting to coach Naya through one of the destruction spell tomes Mirabelle had given her. She had absorbed the knowledge just fine and she was manipulating the magic correctly. In theory, she could do it, in practice….

“I’m beginning to think that you can’t do destruction spells. I think Meridia made your magic so attuned to healing, that it just can’t release a destruction spell without backfiring…maybe try the conjuration spell...?

The explosion that followed was the biggest and loudest one yet.

“…No conjuration, then…”

Which made sense, as conjuration was the branch that included necromancy. A thing that Meridia hated.

Glaring at the guffawing elf, Naya smirked as a thought occurred to her.

“I mean it could be worse.”

“Could be what?”

“It could be worse…” Her smirk grew as she went in for the kill. “I mean it’s not like I turned you… _green_ or anything.”

She sashayed back to their camp, snickering to herself at the look on his face.

“We swore to never speak of that again!”

She threw her hand to the side in a dismissive gesture,

“No, _you_ swore, _I_ was a silent witness.”

Relthreyn gaped incredulously after her, Naya breaking into outright laughter at his dramatics.

After all that had occurred recently, it was good to share these light-hearted moments with her friend.

* * *

They were in high spirits as they rode within sight of Windhelm, unaware that their actions in that city would shape the history of Tamriel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously. This was only four pages long.


	20. Welcome to Windhelm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relthreyn deals with racism, Naya sees something she shouldn't have, and our heroes grow closer.

**Naya XVI**

Their high spirits quickly died upon entrance to the city.

The first thing they saw was a Nord man yelling racial slurs at a pair of Dunmer, calling them ill born grey skins, among other things.

This scene, more than anything set the tone for their visit to the city

Naya turned to Relthreyn, her companion’s face dark as he watched the spectacle. Anger boiled within her as the Nord strode away to a rich looking district, head held high as if had done come sort of civic duty. Relthreyn hurried over to the seething Dunmer.

“Kinsmen, is there anywhere my companion and I can stop for a warm bed and some food?”

The Dunmer glanced at one another before the woman spoke up,

“You can go to Candlehearth Hall, though why you would want to stay in this damn city is beyond me.”

The woman left, the man hesitating for a moment before following her, saying,

“When you want to get away from the Nords, go to New Gnisis Cornerclub, down in the Gray Quarter. Though there’s no rooms to rent, its where most of our kin go.”

* * *

Candlehearth Inn was a cozy looking, though still cold, establishment. Naya let out a slightly wheezy sigh. This perpetually cold weather was not doing her lungs any favors. She was glad they were heading for Riften, Windhelm being a short stop for food and other supplies, a place Reltheryn informed her was much warmer.

She caught Relthreyn’s concerned look. Shit, he must have heard her wheezing slightly, and she had been hiding it so well too. Ever since that curse incident, that man had been a perpetual mother-hen where her health, especially that of her lungs, was concerned.

She rolled her eyes, and sat down at one of the tables, conceding to the Dunmer’s concern. She could hear his conversation with the innkeeper, an Elda Early-Dawn.

The middle-aged Nord let out a disgusted scoff at seeing Relthreyn.

“Another Dunmer, just what Windhelm needs. Maybe you should just move along.”

Relthreyn sucked in a breath, clearly strangling some caustic remark, before speaking in a pointedly polite tone.

“My companion and I would like to rent a room, if you please.”

“It does not please me, but business has been slow lately. There’s one room available, its sixteen septims a night.”

Naya mentally called bullshit, knowing very well that inns tended to charge anywhere from eight to eleven septims a night, depending on competition and business. That ‘reasonable’ price was a nearly forty-six percent upcharge at best. Furthermore, there was hardly anyone here, so her claim of one room was obviously false.

“Sounds… reasonable.”

“Of course it does. Tell me _elf_ ” she spat the word out like it was a curse, “Why are you here anyway?”

“My friend and I just came down from Winterhold, she’s just recovered from a severe sickness. We’re trying to get to a warmer Hold so she doesn’t fall ill again.”

“A scarred Dunmer from Winterhold… _you’re_ the _Dragonborn?_ … I heard that you were one of those greyskins, but I thought Hermir was joking. Word around here is that you burned down the Embassy and killed that dragon up in Kynesgrove, among other things.”

Well, it was good that they’d left Winterhold if the general populace apparently knew Relthreyn had been there recently. Even better if the fresh additions to his appearance was widely known. How’d they know that it was Relthreyn who had burned down the Embassy, anyways? Sahloknir Naya could understand, Kynesgrove being just southeast of here, but the Embassy was on the other side of the country. She thought that word of mouth would have distorted the information more. Then again, being Dragonborn was a pretty big deal, especially to the Nords.

“In that case, it’ll be ten septims. You can’t be as bad as the rest of the Dark Elves if you’ve stuck it to those bastards.”

Relthreyn’s face went through a series of emotions at the woman’s…compliment before settling on a forced expression of gratitude, quickly paying the woman a week in advance before striding to the room he had rented, Naya quickly following.

* * *

Their room was small, on the farthest side of the inn from the entrance. The innkeeper’s ‘credit to your race’ attitude clearly did not extend too far.

It had one small bed, a rickety looking chest, and Naya could feel the cold air of the city seeping in through the weathered wooden boards.

“So…Windhelm.”

Relthreyn grimaced.

“Yes. Windhelm.”

He sighed, absentmindedly rubbing at one of the still healing scars from Morokei, the raw mauve marks vivid against his dark grey skin.

“Many Dunmer fled here after they were displaced from Morrowind. It was… surprising that a city from another country would let refugees of a different race have sanctuary.”

That was surprising? That implied that xenophobia was the norm in Tamirel.

“In spite of the sanctuary, the Dunmer are distrusted by the Nord population because we are elves like the Altmer, and even more because most stay neutral in the Civil War. My people don’t help things by refusing to accept Nordic culture. Its worse for the Argonians. They’re forced to live out on the docks.”

Seriously? How could anyone allow this?

Seeing her angry incredulity, he continued,

“They have it the worst. The local Nords dislike them, but its my people that are the real issue. Its due to an Argonian invasion that many here were displaced, so if all three races were inside the city…well, it would probably be even worse than it is now. Every one of the three races contribute to the tensions. The Nords distrust outsiders, my people can’t stomach their pride, and the Argonians hate both races for the edict that they live out of city walls. Of course, Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak is too focused on the war to deal with the petty matters of his own Hold. He leaves such things to his Steward, who does nothing to diffuse tensions.”

“Not a fan of Ulfric Stormcloak?”

“I think he’s the lesser of two evils. I'm not a fan of the Empire, and due to my issues with the Thalmor, I couldn’t side with them even if I wanted to. I know Jarl Stormcloak would be a strong ruler, but judging by the state of his city, I don’t think he’d be a fair one.”

Naya understood that. What someone did with a little showed what they would do with a lot. Skyrim was her home now, and she would probably be spending the rest or her now very long life here. She didn’t want to live under a king who only cared for part of his population.

Relthreyn continued after a long period of silence.

“I know I won’t be able to stay out of this war forever. I’m the Last Dragonborn. People look to me to save their world. Eventually, one side is going to force me to choose, and I’ll have to take a stand.”

That sounded like it sucked. She couldn’t offer him comfort, but she could at least offer him this.

“Well… I don’t know if it amounts to much, but whatever you choose, I’ll be by your side.”

“…Thank you.”

* * *

The thing was, most of the time they had know each other, they were jumping from one crisis to another. They’d never really had time to just talk. So, as they bought supplies and stubbornly refused to rise to the jabs of the Nords, that’s what they did. Talk.

“So Relthreyn, why’d you congratulate Mirabelle and the Arch-Mage before we left Winterhold?”

“Did you see that necklace that she had on?”

“Yeah.”

“That means she’s engaged. When she and Savos marry, she’ll probably add a marriage pendant to it and Savos will wear whatever the Breton equivalent is.”

She knew how Nordic marriage worked, what with the Amulet of Mara. Necklaces seemed to be popular…

“People here do necklaces for engagement?”

“No, well yes… it depends on the race.”

“Well, what do your people do?”

For whatever reason, Naya felt nervous as she voiced the question.

They entered the inn, and Relthreyn quickly purchased two meals, mead and horker meat and vegetables for him, snowberry juice– Naya not really being one for alcohol- and soup for her, from the much less hostile innkeeper. Apparently being Dragonborn really mattered to her.

As they sat in a table in a corner of the inn, he answered her question.

“Morrowind is a harsh land, so in Dunmer society, be it Ashlander or the Houses, you gain status by gaining strength, be it physical, mental, magical, or spiritual. Therefore, when you find someone that you want to spend your life with, you must prove your strength. Mirabelle and Savos had a picture-perfect courtship, so I’ll use them as an example.

The beginning step is to give them an Offering that should demonstrate three things. First, it shows your personal strength, then it shows that you recognize your desired partner’s ability to stand on their own, and finally it communicates that you want to be a support for them. Savos’s token to Mirabelle was a heavily enchanted necklace, one that only a mage of some skill could properly utilize. So he showed that he recognized that she is a highly skilled mage because that necklace had multiple enchantments on it, and through the enchantments themselves, he showed that he wanted to support her, to add to her power with his own.”

That made sense. It took a highly skilled mage to work numerous enchantments into a singular piece. The necklace Mirabelle had was of numerous strands of silver- a very conductive metal for magic- woven together. He must have enchanted each strand separately before combing both the physical and magical forms together. This skill required to use that necklace to its full potential, to be able to differentiate between each enchantment and activate them separately or in whichever combination desired, was high. Mirabelle was a very accomplished mage, certainly skilled enough for the task.

“Next, if you are accepted, both go through a Trial, to show that you will not be complacent in your life together, that you will both still strive to better yourselves. Mirabelle both descended into Mzulft and defended the town of Winterhold almost at the expense of her life. In Mzulft she showed that she would go through grave dangers in the pursuit of knowledge, and in Winterhold demonstrated the ability to sacrifice for the well-being of her ‘tribe’. Savos confronted his past mistakes, and came to terms with them, showing he would no longer let the past have a hold on his future. He also helped kill the Dragon Priest that almost killed him before, demonstrating his growth as a mage.”

Wow. The Dunmer did not mess around when it came to romance. It actually sounded rather romantic, in an odd way, to willingly go through so much for the sake of love.

“Finally, when one of the partners feel that they are ready to marry, you present the other with a Token of your Trial. One that shows the culmination of your journey. Savos brought back both Morokei’s mask and the Staff of Magnus. The fact that I helped get it doesn’t matter, it just matters that you present a Token to your chosen partner. Unlike Nords, who court and marry very quickly because Skyrim is harsh and people die fast, my people feel that if you can’t keep yourself alive to go through a proper courtship, then you shouldn’t have a partner to begin with.”

That was… harsh. But, Naya could understand where it came from. In a society based upon strength, it made sense that the ‘weak’ would be unable to attract a partner.

He paused for a moment looking almost self-conscious.

“How does Courtship work among your people?”

That was a surprisingly difficult question. Courtships – well, dating, was all over the map, being as formal or casual as the couple in question wished. Resolutely ignoring her blush, she answered.

“Well... dating- what we call courtship- is usually a very casual affair. You just tell someone that you’re interested in them, and if they reciprocate, you go on outings with them, and just exclusively spend a lot of your time together. In Western culture, the culture I grew up in, all the hallmarks of a relationship are shown by a ring. There are three types of rings to show commitment. The more uncommon one is a Promise Rings which is usually strung on a necklace or worn on the fourth finger of the right hand. Its not ‘required’ per say, so many people don’t do it, but it shows that your relationship is serious and that both parties are very committed to it. When you want to ask your partner to marry you, you go down on one knee and present them with an Engagement Ring, if they accept you put the ring on the fourth finger of their left hand.”

Here Naya paused and took a long drink of her snowberry juice, not used to speaking for so long.

“When you and your fiancé” Here Relthreyn interrupted, sounding out the foreign word,

“Fi...an..ce?”

“Yes, fiancé, its what we call our betrothed. When you marry, you exchange another set of rings during the ceremony, the bride or groom placing it on the other bride or groom’s fourth finger of the left hand. After marriage, the engagement ring is usually worn above the wedding ring so that the wedding ring is closer to your heart.”

“That sounds… very straight forward. There’s nothing else, no test of character or anything?”

“No. Its pretty much two people deciding they want to spend their life together, there’s only as much fanfare as you want there to be.”

“That actually sounds like how the Imperials do things. Of course, with the Imperials, there’s a lot less jewelry and a lot more contracts and trade between families.”

“Yeah… as far as cultures go, the Imperials have the most similarities to where I came from.”

“And where did you come from?”

“What?”

“Where was your country in your world, and what was it called? Even though you can’t go back, it doesn’t mean you have to give up where you came from.”

A rush of gratitude warmed Naya. She hadn’t really thought of it that way before. Yes, Nirn was her new home, but she didn’t have to forget her origins.

She took another fortifying sip of snowberry juice, the refreshing flavor soothing her throat.

“My country was in a landmass called the Americas…”

* * *

She slipped out of the inn later that night to take a walk before going to sleep. She breathed out, breath fogging in the frigid air, and absentmindedly dodged a piece of rubble on the streets. That was the first time she had actually had a real get to know you conversation with Reltheyn. As much as they had grown close and cared for each other, they’d never actually had the time to just sit and talk before. She was, not really surprised but more intrigued to realize they she actually liked him on a personal level, for his personality and not mainly out of gratitude for his actions. She hadn’t realized how lucky she was to run into someone who she legitimately got along with all that time ago. They were friends not out of circumstance, but because they had a degree of compatibility, and she was happy to have recognized it. A small voice shook her out of her thoughts.

“Excuse me miss, but would you like to buy a flower?”

She looked down to see a small Nord girl looking up at her with a pleading expression on her features. The girl looked thin and hungry, shivers racking her delicate frame as she stood in the cold air of Windhelm.

Naya found that her voice came to her easily this time as she answered.

“Yes. Of course. How about this one?” She pulled a blue mountain flower of the girl’s basket.

“I’m Naya. What’s your name?” She asked as she drew an amount of coins from her pocket, counting out a measure of septims.

“Sofie”

“Well, Sofie.” Naya handed her twenty-six septims. “How about you take these, one for your flower and twenty-five to go buy yourself a hearty meal and some warmer cloths, alright?”

She could afford to give the child some money, between the pay they had gotten from the College - Arch-Mage Aren seemed to had given them some kind of hazard pay, because there was _a_ _lot_ of septims in those bags- and Relthreyn's perpetual kleptomania, they had more than enough funds between the two of them. Besides, this was coming out of her own personal money.

The child’s face lit up in an expression of gratitude.

“Oh, thank you miss! Thank you! Here, have another flower!”

Sofie placed another mountain flower into her hands before running off, presumably to buy something to eat.

Naya smiled, pulling her coat closer to her body, before continuing her walk. She wandered in the direction of the Hall of the Dead, wanting to ask the Priest of Arkay a quick question before heading to sleep.

She was nearing the Hall before she heard a scream, turning the corner she saw a male figure tear something from the body of a woman with a nauseatingly wet, fleshy sound. She ducked into the shadows, just in time to see the silhouette of the man warily scan the area, presumably looking for witnesses, before running away from the scene of the crime, the rapidly falling snow covering the crimson blood splatters left in his wake.

Naya sank into the snow in shock, hand covering her mouth to keep a scream of her own from escaping. She stayed hidden as guards swarmed the scene, searching the nearby area for clues.

She gathered herself and snuck back to the inn, unseen, not wanting to be caught near the scene of the crime.


	21. The Thalmor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relthreyn almost punches someone, they both go to the Palace of Kings, and Naya remembers something important.

**Relthreyn XVIII**

He had no idea what had compelled him to tell her of Dunmer courting traditions. If there was one thing Ashlanders and the Great Houses agreed on, it was the nearly fanatical distrust of outsiders. Reltrheyn, having spent his formative years wandering Morrowind with his mother, and then most of his adult years travelling Tamriel at large, especially since his mother’s death, had largely grown out of the xenophobic notion, but he still generally kept quiet on the ins and outs of Dunmer culture.

But she had looked so happy when he had told her about his people, her metallic eyes glimmering with an appealing light…

Shaking off his thoughts, Relthreyn went down to get a drink from the innkeeper. Maybe some mead would get his head back in order.

* * *

Going downstairs to get mead did not get his head back in order. Instead, his present location made it worse.

Intellectually speaking, he knew that Naya was an attractive woman. Her earthen coloration was pleasing to the eye and her small, delicately formed figure was equally as appealing. He’d figured that out soon after he first met her, and then proceeded to boot those thoughts from his mind because ogling your travel companion was not appropriate, especially considering the circumstances in which they had met. All her appearance had really done was make him feel more protective of her than he already had, because she looked like an easy target.

He also knew that, unlike when they had first met, she was now perfectly capable of defending herself. Between the magic she had begun learning, and the dagger the she was getting very proficient at wielding, she was worlds away from the helpless state she had been in when she had first arrived. She was far from the best warrior on the planet, but she could hold her own.

Naya was a grown woman; she could take care of herself.

These thoughts did nothing smother the pure rage he was feeling when he saw a drunken patron harass his perturbed looking friend as she tried to hurry across the room. And his – now raging - dragon soul was not helping matters in the slightest.

Clamping down on his temper, he plastered an easy smile on his face, and strode over to help his friend. They could not afford to make a scene, and as much as he wanted to, he could not start a bar fight. He also did not think Naya would appreciate it if her started one over her.

He wrapped an arm around her and gently guided her away from the grasping hands of the drunken Nord, her form quickly relaxing at his touch. Fortunately, the prejudice of the city worked in his favor for once because the man recoiled in disgust when he saw Naya’s clear ease around him, slurring something about ‘Talos-forsaken greyskin loving wenches’, before stumbling off, presumably to find another person to go harass.

Relthreyn eyed the bartender, who was studiously cleaning a glass, obviously ignoring the spectacle. Once again, he determinedly sat on his again raging temper. It was one thing to dislike him based on his appearance, but it was a whole other thing to take it out on Naya.

He looked down at his companion, before walking them both to their room

There was something wrong with her. It would take more than a drunken idiot to make her look as shaken as she did right now.

* * *

“What’s wrong?”

Beginning to shake, Naya opened her mouth and then closed it, her voice abandoning her.

Now Relthreyn was _very_ concerned. He was aware of her issues with talking to people, it was why he always made an effort to know what she needed or what questions she had because he usually ended up speaking for both of them. But it had been a while since she had problems talking to him.

At her wide-eyed, panicky look, he decided to take more drastic measures.

He pulled her down to sit atop the bed and enfolded her in an embrace. As her slight tremors died down, he spoke.

“Don’t push yourself, take all the time you need.”

She nodded against his chest. As she calmed, she managed to find her voice. It emerged from her throat hoarse and thin,

“I saw. Something.”

“What did you see?”

“Murder. Grisly.”

That would explain her panic. To kill in defense was one thing. To witness a murder, and an apparently gruesome one at that, was a completely different thing.

“No one. Saw me. Hid from killer. Snuck from guards.”

Longer sentences now, good.

“Do you want to talk to the guards tomorrow?”

She shook her head vigorously.

“Don’t trust them. Won’t listen to me.”

The sad part was she was probably right. Between the word of a city dweller and a foreigner, the guards would side with the locals every time.

He moved a hand up and down her back, soothing her.

“We can do something about it tomorrow.”

Thus ended their first day in the City of Kings.

* * *

Relthreyn woke up, the early light of the dawn streaming in through minute gaps in the wooden wall of their room. Naya was wrapped in his arms, the two sharing the solitary bed in the center. Despite what the innkeeper had most likely desired, the small bed didn’t really do much to inconvenience them. While on the road, this scene had repeated itself many times, as Relthreyn originally had sleeping supplies for one person, and no way of acquiring more. So, they had shared out of necessity and, when they had reached the snowy northern Skyrim, to keep warm. There was no need to keep watch, Relthreyn, and now Naya, knowing proximity wards that would wake them should something dangerous approach as it too often did.

He enjoyed her warmth for a few minutes, before gently untangling himself from her grasp, moving over to his knapsack and pulling out a plain leather-bound book.

He held it in his hands, giving it am indecisive look.

This had been the other reason they had stopped in Windhelm. He was trying to figure out what to do with this.

A yawn accompanied by movement from the bed drew Relthreyn’s attention to Naya, who was arching her back in a stretch, her chest thrust out with the movement.

He put the book into his satchel and quickly moved his eyes to her face as she made to face him. There was silence for a few moments, as Naya began to go through her morning abultions. Before he exited to give her some privacy, he addressed the mammoth in the room.

“What do you want to do about it?”

She looked pensive for a moment before once again meeting his gaze.

“I want to see what the guards found.”

* * *

**Naya XVII**

"Another girl killed. This is Susanna, from Candlehearth Hall. Served me a drink just a few nights ago... but I can't say I knew her. Susanna's the third. It's always the same: young girl, killed at night, body torn up."

A serial killer then.

_A serial killer_.

She distantly heard Relthreyn question the witnesses milling around the place.

The thing was, she had no idea if the killer had saw her in the shadows.

“Naya, we need to go to the Palace of Kings.”

Oh?

She gave him a quizzical look.

“The guards won’t help unless we get permission from the Steward, Jorleif. We need to go talk to him.”

* * *

Her first impression of the Palace of Kings was that it was big.

Inside the lavish Hall was a long wooden table bursting with food, various members of the court sitting at it eating.

Relthreyn quickly walked over to a side room and sought out an older looking Nord with a handlebar mustache.

The man looked wary at his approach saying,

“Are you here to submit a complaint to the Jarl?”

Yes. That was certainly the Steward.

“I’m not a citizen of Windhelm, I’m not here about that. I’m here about those murders that have happened recently. I was wondering if the investigation might need a little help?”

The man saddened.

"These are difficult times indeed, when men stalk their brethren like beasts. My men are stretched thin as it is. If you offer your aid, I gladly accept. The guards will be told to assist you as necessary. I'm happy to lend my hand as much as I can, as well."

Relthreyn hesitated before they left, pulling out a leather-bound book and held it out to the Steward.

“You should give this to your Jarl. It has information about the Thalmor he may be interested in.”

Steward Jorleif looked shocked, obviously recognizing the book and shakily took it from Relthreyn’s hands.

“Is this...? Yes. Yes, I’ll bring this to him immediately.” He gave the both of them a far more considering look than before, actually including her in the conversation this time.

“If this is what I think it is, then you should both expect a summons from the Jarl in the near future.”

As they began to leave the palace, Naya gave Relthreyn an inquisitive stare.

He looked away for a moment before saying in a grave tone,

“The was the Thalmor Dossier on Ulfric Stormcloak.”

Oh. _Oh._

* * *

Back in Winterhold, Naya had been the one to move Ancano’s body from the Hall of Elements. It was a terrible idea to leave a rotting corpse in the Hall, especially the one of an important Thalmor agent. Before she had moved it to the Hall of the Dead in town, she had noticed a key in his pocket. Thinking that it might be important, she took it and put it in her own pocket.

The thing about the Dossier was that it reminded her of something she _really_ shouldn’t have forgotten. Naya, after moving Ancano, had taken a gander up to his room and grabbed an important looking stack of correspondence from inside his nightstand that she now had the key to, and shoved them into her knapsack. Between helping heal the inhabitants Winterhold, caring for Relthreyn while he was unconscious, and their subsequent departure, she had completely forgotten about it.

So as they ate breakfast at the inn, having gone back after leaving the Palace of Kings, she brought it up.

“Relthreyn… I stole something from Ancano’s room.”

He paused in him movements and set down his tankard with a low thump. He gave her a considering look before speaking.

“After he was dead, I presume?”

At her nod he continued,

“We should probably talk about this where we can’t be overheard.”

That was a very good idea.

They finished breakfast in silence.

* * *

Their silence continued as Relthreyn sat on the bed, shuffling through the documents she had stashed in her bag. The door was locked, and their space was shimmering with a muffling ward that he had anchored around the boundaries of the room.

“Naya.”

“Yeah?”

“You should read these.”

She reached over and tugged the sheaf of papers from Relthreyn’s grasp. Looking them over, she read,

_Ancano -_

_There has been a surge of Talos worship with the burning of the Embassy. This so called ‘Dragon Born’ has not helped matters. The heretics of this country believe that is a ‘sign’ from their false god. It is suspected that this Dragon Born is connected to the burning of the Embassy due to the confirmation of the Blades involvement. If this Dragon Born or the arsonist is found, it is recommended that they are brought in for questioning. In the case of the arsonist, he may be brought in dead or alive. The arsonist is a male Dunmer with red eyes and dark red hair named Zoistite. it is possible that this name is an alias. He is taller than his race’s average and was last seen headed towards Riften. It is not suspected that he will move towards Winterhold but be ready to engage if necessary. The Dragon Born’s description is not known, the only confirmation is that they are Dunmer. However, there is also the possibility that this Dragon Born and the arsonist are one and the same._

_In further news, expect reinforcements to arrive within the next six months. With the loss of influence in Skyrim, we will reinforce our positions in each hold we have a presence in and take ground in the holds that we do not. You will be moved to Whiterun when reinforcements arrive. Expect the Jarl to be uncooperative. You are authorized to use any measures necessary to exert influence within the Whiterun Hold. Remember, it is imperative that this conflict continues. You will keep that Jarl neutral by any means necessary…_

Shit. Well, now she was even happier that Ancano was dead. But she knew how much Relthreyn valued Whiterun, he’d said that it was the first home he ever had.

She took a glance at the other pages. They were just more correspondence like the first, mainly talking about how the Thalmor would have to influence Skyrim, how it was imperative to keep the current conflict going, and so on and so forth.

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. Giving the Dossier was one thing, but this? I know how Jarl Balgruf feels about his citizens. The only thing that could make him choose a side of his own volition would be to threaten them. He allows Talos worship inside of his city by turning a blind eye. The man himself still worships in secret. If Thalmor Agents threaten his people, he could very well turn away from his neutrality. I would give it to him, but I can’t so the only other way…”

It sounded like he already knew what he wanted to do.

“What about your uncle?”

“I’ll write him…just need to find a courier…”

Naya stood.

“It sounds like you have some things to do. How about I go look into this serial killer and you figure out what to do about this.”

“You sure you’ll be fine?”

“If I need you, I’ll find you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zoistite is actually the name of my current Skyrim character, who was named after a type of rock. I wasn't exactly being creative when I came up with Relthreyn's pseudonym.


	22. Blood On The Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An investigation is had and Relthreyn does something that will have a significant impact on Skyrim's future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ulfric's voice is really hard for me to pin down. If he's terribly OOC then I am very sorry.

**Naya XVIII**

Naya decided to visit the Hall of the Dead first to see if the priest of Arkay had anything to say about the body. She pushed open the door to the musty room, hearing someone shuffling about in a back room. Not wanting to be rude, Naya shut the door loudly to get the priest’s attention. A Nordic woman came out of the back.

“Oh. The Steward sent some guards to tell me someone would be coming about the body…?”

Naya nodded.

"Well, she's dead. But I guess that's not unusual, at least not for somebody in here. I mean, someone who's not me, that is. Sorry, was only joking with you.”

At Naya’s amused smile the woman continued.

“As for the body, the only unusual thing is the shape of the cuts. They look like they were made with... well, the ancient Nords used these kinds of curved blades when they embalmed their dead. I don't know who in Windhelm would even have something like that. Other than me, of course."

Naya knew the killer had to be a younger man. That silhouette she had seen had been obviously male, and moreso he had been beardless and wearing normal cloths. It was less likely to have been an elderly man, because it would have been extremely difficult to overcome someone younger without the use of magic, which left a distinct tang in the air that Naya hadn’t felt.

Bowing to the priest in thanks, Naya left the Hall, mind whirling. The only other person who she could think would have access to ancient Nord embalming tools was either an adventurer or a trader. But first, Naya remembered that there was a trail of blood leading away from the crime scene. Maybe she could follow it. It was obscured by the snow so she would need to talk to Relthreyn. Besides, she had no intention of possibly finding the den of a serial killer on her own.

* * *

Relthreyn, Naya knew, was a _very_ good tracker, especially where people were concerned. He had found her on the numerous times that she managed to get herself lost during their earlier days together – usually after getting separated while fighting something or on a couple of very terrifying occasions during thunderstorms - and he somehow always knew where he was in Skyrim’s landscape. When she asked him how he always knew where they were, he’d admitted that when he went to visit his mother in Morrowind, he would always have to figure out wherever she was in the country by himself, and that he’d eventually paid a courier to teach him how to track people.

“Relthreyn, I need your help.”

He was sitting at the rickety table in the corner of their room putting the finishing touches on a letter to his uncle.

“Yes?”

“I need to follow the blood trail left by the killer. The blood is buried in snow.”

He set the letter on the table and walked over to her.

“And this blood trail will lead to…?”

“Probably the serial killer’s lair.”

“… And you call me danger prone. You do realize that there’s no way I’m not coming with you right?”

“Yeah, that’s the other reason I was coming to get you. I’ve no intention on going there by myself.”

* * *

Apparently, there was a way to modify the clairvoyance spell to follow the magical trace of a person’s whereabouts, and that magical trace was mainly held in the blood. As they hurried in the direction of the upper residential area, Relthreyn’s eyes focused on a path only he could see, Naya filled him in on what she had found.

He released the spell, apparently knowing where to go without it now.

“I went for a walk and ran into a Calixto Corrium while you were gone. He has ancient Nord tools in his living area.”

Nay gave him a considering look.

“…and how do you know what is in his private space.”

“He was a complete ass to me, so I stole some potions from his house.”

At the utterly unsurprising admission of petty thievery, Relthreyn stopped in front of a rich looking house.

“It leads here.”

Without so much as a pause, he glanced around for guards, and then picked the lock of the house, letting them both in.

She has originally thought that his thievery only extended to crypts and bandits, but quickly learned that if he were not about to ruin someone’s life, he would consider it free real estate. Honestly, sometimes that man’s complete lack of respect for people’s privacy worried her, but right now it was proving very useful.

The house was musty and had splatters of dried blood on the floorboards and stairs. However, most telling was the slight stench of preservatives usually only found in crypts swarming with dragur.

With a slight wince, Relthreyn summoned a purple spell to his hand, Detect Life she thought.

“There’s no one here. Let us look through the house.”

He quickly moved up the stairs to search the upper floor, and she turned to her left to see a bloody chest that they had somehow missed upon entry to the house. Steeling herself, she opened it to find a journal. She cracked it open and read,

_13 Sundas, Midyear, 4E 202,_  
_  
_ _The plans are coming together swimmingly. I've found good sources of bone, flesh, and blood, but thus far a good sampling of sinew and marrow have escaped me. No matter. The city is swollen with contemptuous fools who will be missed by nobody. Last night was almost able to corner Susanna_ _as she left Candlehearth_ _. Idiot guards showed up at just the wrong moment and I had to turn about, just out for a stroll, and so forth. There will be other chances, but the time is drawing near. I think back to my time in Winterhold_ _. All the wasted minds up in their towers. They only explore the magic they already know. I am discovering new magic here. Something deeper than the cantripped shenanigans of fire and light. This flesh magic is older than us. Perhaps older than the world itself. I am tugging at the corners of the fabrics of the universe, and where it bunches, and folds is where I shall create my greatest triumph. One more attempt at the Candlehearth girl. She's proving to be a bit too cautious, but those strong joints of hers should contain the most exquisite tendons. Worth the effort. Tonight._

_14 Morndas, Midyear, 4E 202,_

_Success! I’ve separated the tendons form the rest of the girl’s useless body. They are perfect, just what I need for Lucilla. I wasn’t completely unseen, though… my spell detected a woman in the shadows. She saw me, I think. I can’t be caught until I’ve brought her back. Then it won’t matter. Nord blood is preferable, but I can use that of a Redguard as well…_

Damnit. He had seen her.

She quickly made her way up to Relthreyn, who was inspecting an opened wardrobe.

He looked up at her approach, his expression quickly shifting to concern when he saw her face.

“What did you find?”

She handed him the journal. He quickly flipped through it, eyes quickly scanning the ravings of the killer. From the look on his face when he finished it, she knew two things. First, that the killer was going to be dead in the near future, and second that Relthreyn was not going to leave her side until he made that happen.

Relthreyn visibly calmed himself and turned back to the peculiar wardrobe.

“It has a false back.”

He pressed against a spot on the upper corner of the wardrobe, Naya hearing a click. The panel opened, revealing a small room.

Naya thought she was going to be sick.

There were pieces of flesh strewn about the floor, bone fragments, ligaments, and muscles, in the process of being shaped in the crude form of a body, buckets of blood off to the side. It was the smell that was the worst, that characteristic pungent smell of rotting flesh was added to by the taint of dark magic and the sterile tang of preservatives.

A necromancer. All these poor women had been killed by a necromancer. That meant that in addition to a painful death, there was a most likely compromised afterlife as well.

Relthreyn entered and grabbed an amulet and a second journal from the room, before turning back to her and tugging her to the bottom floor where he sat on that stairs and let her lean against him for comfort. He wrapped an arm around her as he spoke,

“We need to speak with the court mage, and then we should be able to catch this necromancer.”

She nodded before inhaling, the smell of flesh, blood, and preservatives threatening to make her sick again, before shakily standing to her feet.

They quickly exited the house and made for the Palace of Kings

* * *

It was Naya’s turn to be bait.

She was wandering the Stone Quarter in the middle of the night, the humid, frigid air straining her lungs, making her wish she were in their bed at the inn. But serial killers wait for no woman, and she was out here about to be attacked instead.

They had spoken to the court mage, Wuunferth the Unliving, had told them to keep watch in the Stone Quarter at night. They had gone to the Steward and relayed all this information to him, and he had ordered a contingent of guards to go to their stakeout to apprehend the killer. The necromancer was to be brought in alive, preferably, though not at the expense of their own lives.

She had volunteered as bait, the journal having implied that the killer was going to go for her next anyways. Which was why, to Relthreyn’s intense displeasure, she was out here at midnight, with a layer of enchanted chainmail from Wuunferth under her cloths as some form of protection.

She heard a noise from behind, a scuffle of a boot upon the frozen cobblestones. She forced herself to stay relaxed as she spotted the reflection of a figure – it was Calixto, looks like her and Relthreyn’s suspicions were right – with a dagger in hand sneaking up behind her. As he rose out of his crouch to strike, she suddenly threw herself to the side, slipping on the ice and falling to the ground. She barely parried his next strike, managing to scratch him with her magicka poison-coated dagger, and he made to attack her again only for a – white-hot and overcharged, wow, Relthreyn was **very** unhappy - fireball to impact his ribs, throwing him the side, an incredibly pissed off Dunmer following the magical projectile in short order. The ensuing beat down would have made her feel bad for Caltixto if he wasn’t an insane, murderous, necromantic serial killer that had just attacked her. The guards obviously felt the same way because they were doing absolutely nothing to stop the brutal display in front of them. And Naya would be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying it at least a little. Calixto had tried to kill her after all.

After Relthreyn had finished… expressing his displeasure, the guards arrested the man, who was to be executed at first light tomorrow.

Naya sat up on the icy flagstones, her shoulder throbbing. She tried to catch her breath.

It had been a very long day.

* * *

They had retreated to their room to get some sleep, the stress of the day catching up to both of them. Naya had downed a minor healing potion (she had landed badly on her shoulder when she fell), as well as a potion that Colette had helped her create at the College that was now serving as her albuterol.

They both fell onto the bed to get some well-deserved rest.

She woke to a banging on the door and felt Relthreyn leave the bed.

“Captain. What can we do for you?”

“By order of the Jarl, you and your companion are to report to the Palace of Kings.”

“Alright. We’ll be there as soon as we can manage. Have a wonderful day.”

He shut the door in the guard’s face.

“Relthreyn, that was rude.”

“We’ve been asleep for less than four hours and just caught a serial killer for them. I think they can deal with it.”

There was not any arguing with that. She was irritated at being woken so soon too.

She dragged herself out of the bed with a wheezy huff before a hot cup of some herbal drink was placed into her hands. She looked up at Relthreyn.

“I listened to Collette too. It’s that soother you two made at the College.”

“Where did you even get the ingredients for this, they don’t even grow around here.”

“I bought some yesterday from the potions shop at the Stone Quarter. You should go down there later; the shopkeeper was very interested in your recipe. Might even give you some gold for it. He said something about his master’s illness.”

She would definitely go do that. She was running out of ingredients for her potion anyways. Before she drank her beverage, a thought occurred her. A thought about Relthreyn’s tendency to be deliberately unhelpful or outright ignore people he did not like.

“Reltheyn, I know you don’t like the Jarl that much, but please don’t say or do something that will get us both arrested.”

“I can only promise to try.”

She hoped they would not be finishing their stay here is a jail cell.

Naya downed her tea and let out a loud exhale.

“Right. Let’s go visit Jarl Stormcloak.”

* * *

**Reltheryn XIX**

Once again, they were in the Palace.

Naya had given him the papers she had stolen from Ancano, telling him to do what he thought was right.

Jorleif had met them at the front of the room.

“You have my thanks for dealing with this. I apologize for rousing you so early, but Ulfric was insistent. Here.”

He handed Relthreyn the mysterious amulet,

“Wuunferth can tell you what its effects are, consider it yours for taking care of this. As for your companion,” He turned to face Naya “You put your life on the line to catch the Butcher last night, it was very brave of you, here is a reward of 750 septims. Furthermore, You may both buy in Windhelm or anywhere in Eastmarch. If you wish to do this, come speak to me.”

That was more generous than Relthreyn had thought he would be. He could feel the necromantic energy radiating from that amulet, and while he had no intention of keeping it, it would fetch a hefty price if he looked in the right places.

The Steward led them to Ulfric Stormcloak, who was reclining on his throne. Relthreyn wanted to get this over with so he cordially broke the silence,

“Jarl Stormcloak, it is good to see that you escaped Helgen safely, your solider, Ralof, helped me get out alive. I’m very grateful for his assistance.”

“Yes, Ralof is a damn good man, and an even better solider. He returned recently, and informed me of what happened at Whiterun, Dragonborn. Now, tell me. How did you come to acquire my Dossier?”

“I’m sure you heard about the Thalmor Embassy.”

“Yes. I was glad to hear that someone stuck it to those bastards.”

“I went there to retrieve the Dossiers of the surviving Blades, and I found yours as well, after what I read and what I saw I… uh, lost my temper.”

Relthreyn hesitated for a few more moments before continuing, drawing the papers Naya had retrieved from his satchel.

“Naya” He gestured to her silent, still form, her eyes fixed firmly upon Ulfric, “retrieved these from Ancano’s – the Thalmor officer who was at Winterhold- room. I think you may find these interesting as well.”

He held them out, Jorleif coming to retrieve them. The Steward quickly shuffled through them before saying,

“Ulfric, this will have serious negative repercussions to Whiterun’s relationship with the Empire”

Ulfric’s now intent, heavy gaze came to rest on them both, Relthreyn seeing Naya grow more tense than she already was.

“Dragonborn. What are your feelings on my war.”

That was not a question, it was a command.

The thing was, Relthreyn had not been arrogant when he told Naya that one side or the other was eventually going to force him to choose who to fight for. In that gap of time between burning the Embassy and meeting Naya, he had not just been wandering the countryside like an idiot, he had been doing things. Things like killing Forsworn, killing bandits, and most importantly, killing the occasional hostile Dragon. When someone spends a few months wandering the country and doing ‘good’, they get noticed. The people he had helped with his killing of outlaws did not know his identity, but they did know that he was the Dragonborn. And the bare corpses of the Dragons he had slain left a pretty clear message of who had been there as well. His – or most specifically – The Last Dragonborn’s deeds had began to gain some significance in the minds of the people, making him something like a hero. The thing about heroes was that people tended to follow them and if – when – he killed Alduin, his actions would become legend. And whoever he followed would get that legend on their side. He had the potential to be a very useful resource to either side of the war.

“Jarl Stomcloak, do I have permission to speak freely without being arrested?”

“You are the Dragonborn, until you kill Alduin, Skyrim can’t afford to have you arrested.”

Good enough for him. Ignoring Naya’s suddenly fiery gaze – he asked, they wouldn’t get arrested – he spoke.

“I think you are the lesser of two evils.”

Look at that, he managed to piss off all of the guards – he felt Naya’s stare ramp up by a few degrees - and his friend. Ulfric, on the other hand, looked very unsurprised.

“You dare disrespect – “

“Let him speak.”

Taking that as permission to continue, he pressed onward.

“Jarl Stormcloak, Dragonborn or not, I am Dunmer. On of those ‘ill-gotten greyskins’ that I have heard your people go on about. I believe that if you become High King, you will be a good ruler for your people. I do not know who your people are. Your city tells me one thing, but you yourself tell me another. At Helgen, you showed me no scorn based upon my race, and you and your Steward have done the same here, but your people have done the opposite. Essentially, there is no way in Oblivion I would join your side without serious prompting from the Empire or the Thalmor unless I know without a shadow of a doubt that you would be a High King for _all_ of the people of Skyrim, and not just your fellow Nords. Of course, that doesn’t matter right now because I have no intention of joining anyone until Alduin is dead.”

“And yet, you give me this information.”

“Whiterun is the only city aside from Winterhold that I have a personal connection to. That I truly care for. I know that by having your support, that city will be safer from the repercussions of my actions at the Embassy and at Winterhold. I weakened the Thalmor. I am the cause for the surge in Talos worship. The Thalmor will react by sending more agents to this country to gain more power. I want Whiterun and The College of Winterhold as safe as possible, and you are how I accomplish that goal. My personal feelings do not matter if I can help protect the people and places I care for.

Ulfirc turned to Naya, who had a strange mixture of pride and resignation on her face.

“I assume you share his opinion.”

She nodded.

“I see.” Ulfric was silent for a few moments. “ Regardless of your opinion about me, you have done me a great favor.”

Ulfric stood from his throne and met Relthreyn’s gaze steadily.

“I will speak with you again after the World Eater is dead.”

That was a clear dismissal.

They left the Palace of Kings under the hostile gazes of the guards and the contemplative gaze of the Steward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've actually never done the Stormcloack quest line, but the dialogue I've heard from Ulfric suggests that he is more neglectful than outright racist. I'm going with the interpretation that his focus on the war is keeping him from attending to matters in his own hold. But would Windhlem would be better or worse with his personal oversight? Its a good question.


	23. To Riften. Finally.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naya helps an alchemist, they finally leave Windhelm, and Relthreyn begins to contemplate something.

**Naya XIX**

After they both retreated to the inn to get a little more shut eye, they separated, Relthreyn to finish buying supplies, and Naya to go speak to the man at the White Phial, a Quintis Navale

She quickly located the shop, not wanting to be in the Stone Quarter for too long and entered only to hear a series of rattling coughs.

“I’ll be fine…”

“Master, you're far to old for this sort of journey, we don’t know what’s inside.”

The other voice erupted in a series of painful sounding coughs laced with protests.

“You see, you’re not well, have a seat, and I’ll fetch you some tonic.”

“Bah! If there was a tonic that could help me, I would have found it by now…”

She heard a shuffling from the upper floor, and the clink of cutlery and cups as the (presumed) tonic was mixed.

She coughed loudly after a few more minutes to get the attention of who she assumed was Apprentice Navale.

“Just a moment!”

There was a creak of the wooden stairs and floorboards as an Imperial man came down the stairs to greet her.

“I’m sorry miss, I had to care for my master. How can I help you?”

Once again, her voice was not working. However, she had planned ahead this time, and handed the Imperial a note.

His eyes scanned the paper and he exclaimed,

“Oh, You are the one the Dunmer from yesterday told me about. He warned that you would be silent. Here,” He pulled a chair from around the counter, “Have a seat. You can use the counter to write on.”

Smiling, she bowed her head in gratitude. Taking a seat, she wrote,

_What was it you wanted to ask me about?_

“As you probably heard, my Master is very sick. From the little your friend told me about your sickness, the potions you and your Master invented may help. I know that’s it’s a long shot but, I really need to help Master Nurelion.”

Naya couldn’t say no to that.

_I’ll help you. Out of curiosity, why didn’t you contact the College?_

“I tried but got a response from the adviser to the Arch-Mage. He told me to leave the College alone.”

He probably wanted to keep the College isolated from the rest of the country. The more she heard about Ancano, the happier she was that he was dead.

_Ancano was a Thalmor agent. Now he is dead. You could try contacting them again. My Master, Colette Ervine is a very accomplished Restoration mage._

“You were up at the College during the recent cataclysm? If you insist, I’ll try again. He was very insistent.”

_I’ll write a letter before I leave town for Colette and Master Wizard Mirabelle. Colette would be happy for a new case to study, she’s always looking for more ways to spread restoration around Skyrim. And Master Mirabelle is looking for ways to connect the College to the rest of the country. Anyways, you wanted to know about my ailment?_

As he read the note his eyes widened in disbelief.

“Really? Thank you. But yes, your sickness, how does it affect you?

Naya wrote out a long and detailed explanation about her asthma and its effect on her body. From what Apprentice Navale said about his master, it sounded like he had something like bronchitis, a very severe case of Frost Rasp – pneumonia – or some unholy mixture of the two. But, Naya was no diagnostician so she kept her suspicions to herself. Colette, on the other hand, was and if Master Nurelion did have that, or something similar, then Colette would probably be able to help him.

“So how did you treat it?”

Naya quickly wrote out the recipe and instructions for the Potion of Eased Breath she and Colette had made, the herbal mixture for the medicinal tea, and the tonic that the priest of Arkay from Dragon Bridge had made for her, along with the side effects of all three.

Out of her own curiosity she also asked,

_If Master Nurelion is so ill, then why does he want to go on a journey?_

“Oh, you heard me. Master wants to search for the legendary White Phial. He’s positive that it is in the Forsaken Cave, but he cannot make the journey.”

_Why don’t you ask the College about that too, it’s the exact kind of thing that they do expeditions for._

“I don’t think that they’ll bother with that, not after what just happened there.”

They would totally bother with that. Alchemy was a branch of magic that the College was lacking in, and she had overheard Arch-Mage Aren and Mirabelle discussing it on several occasions. Many of the members were proficient at it, but none were true Masters, and if Master Nurelion was as brilliant as Apprentice Navale had said…

_Will you still be here in about two hours?_

“Yes, we’re open for the entire day.”

_I am going to write those letters I mentioned, and then I’ll be back to buy some items. Do you think you could get a hold of a courier while I’m gone?_

“Yes, I can. Thank you again for you assistance. These recipes could really help Master Nurelion."

Naya quickly left the shop, intent on finding Relthreyn. She had a letter to write and a favor to ask of him.

* * *

She grabbed a quick bite to eat from the innkeeper and wrote a letter to the College before finding Relthreyn and explaining the situation about the White Phial, her friend quickly agreeing to write another letter to the Arch-Mage about it. He hadn’t gotten around to sending his warning about the Thalmor, so he walked with her back to the White Phial shop with her when he heard that there would be a courier.

As Relthreyn settled their affairs with the courier that was standing outside the shop, Naya entered to speak – well, write - to Quintis.

_I’ve just given my letter to the courier, and I got Relthreyn to write to the Arch-Mage about the White Phial._

“What? How does your friend have the ear of the Arch-Mage?"

_Aside from his vital assistance in the recent incident there, Arch-Mage Aren is his grand uncle. The College will send help._

“I…don’t know what to say. _Thank you.”_

* * *

Naya left the shop in a good mood. Apprentice Navale had given her a massive discount on the ingredients she had bought from the shop as a thanks for her help, as well as a promise to keep her updated on what happened with the White Phial. All in all, it had been a good day. And it was about to get better because they were finally ready to leave the city.

As they packed to leave, Naya idly asked what Relthreyn had done that day.

“I just bought the rest of the supplies, went down to the Grey Quarter, asked about that murderous child, and spoke to the Argonians on the docks.”

One of those things was not like the other.

“I’m almost afraid to ask, but “murderous child”?”

“Yes. Aventus Aretino, an orphan from Honor Hall in Riften, preformed the Black Sacrament, and apparently it was answered by a member of the Dark Brotherhood.”

They had just caught a serial killer, and now Relthreyn goes and finds a murder child? She was so happy they were leaving the city.

* * *

Happy to have their backs to the frigid city, Naya and Relthreyn galloped away at the break of dawn the next morning, finally making their way towards Riften.

* * *

**Relthreyn XX**

They were half a day out from the city, when Naya brought it up.

“Relthreyn, what’s wrong with your magic.”

Damn. She was on to him.

“Ever since you killed Ancano, you haven’t been using your magic as much. When you fought that spider on the way here, you could have immediately killed it with a firebolt or with bound bow like normal, but you didn’t. When we were going through those spell tomes you didn’t demonstrate any, and I cast the wards for the spell backlash, not you. And don’t think I didn’t see you wince when you used Detect Life in Hjerim. So, what gives?”

He was not getting out of this one.

“Remember when I told you about the fight Morokei? Specifically, Morokei’s lightning cloak?”

“…. _you didn’t._ ”

“I did.”

“Massive lightning damage can have serious long-term effects on your magicka, and you walked right into a _lightning cloak_ powered by a _Named_ _Dragon Priest.”_

She was even angrier than he thought she would be.

“I’m not angry about your injuries, I’m worried about you. I know how much you love your magic, and I don’t want you to lose that. I’m mad because you didn’t tell me sooner, because I can _help you_.”

_Oh_. A warm feeling rose in his chest.

“Does my magic hurt you?”

“No. If anything, it feels soothing.”

“Wonderful. If we get into a fight that requires you to use magic, I’ll give you some of mine. Just…please don’t hurt yourself more.”

* * *

He had no idea where Naya was.

This was not an unusual occurrence; it was the third time it had happened since they left Winterhold. But it was the first time in a while that it had happened in the middle of a fight. He had forgotten how prone she was to wander off or just get lost when she was healthy enough to do so.

He decapitated the last bandit with a grunt and turned to go find his companion.

Twenty minutes later, he found her. Along with a dragon.

His scars from Morokei tinged alarmingly – it was getting worse- as he reached for his magic and fired off a powerful lightning bolt, bringing the dragon’s attention to himself. He quickly dove behind a boulder to avoid to resulting fire breath.

“You’ve only been gone for twenty minutes, how did you run into a dragon?”

Naya joined him behind his refuge.

“I think you’ve rubbed off on me.”

The dragon ceased to breath fire and flew higher into the sky, wheeling around to go for the group of giants a little ways away.

As she cast healing hands to remedy the damage he had caused to himself with his destruction spell, Naya asked,

“How are we going to do this?”

When Relthreyn had fought dragons in the past, it was usually a matter of luring them over to a bandit encampment, and letting the bandits and dragons kill each other as he picked them both of from the sidelines. On the occasion that he could not distract a dragon with a greater threat, it became a battle of attrition, with Relthreyn evading or blocking everything before choosing an opportune moment to strike. This would be the first time since Kynesgrove that he had done this with an ally.

“I’ll draw its attention and attack; you support?”

“Like normal then, got it.”

Relthreyn went from out behind their shelter, Naya following shortly behind.

The thing was, Naya’s wards and healing spells were stronger than his own, despite her having less magic and experience than him. Meridia’s blessing was no joke.

Again, his electricity burns throbbed painfully as he manifested ice, shooting the spikes at the dragon, drawing its attention back to the two.

He had to go after the wings first to curtail the dragon’s mobility. He felt the rejuvenating rush of a magicka transfer from Naya, and he charged an charged an icy spear in one hand, waiting for the dragon to hover as it breathed fire in their direction.

Naya quickly cast a ward spell, overcharging it, barely blocking the torrent of flames.

He hit the dragon’s left wing with two icy spears, wincing a little as Naya’s transferred magic was used up, the rest of the spell coming from his own reserves. The frozen missiles tore two great rents in the dragon’s wings, sending it spiraling to the ground.

The dragon the decided to kill the approaching giant first, giving them a few moments to spare.

He saw Naya take a drink from a magicka potion as the reptile fell, the rush of her magic entered his system once more.

He really had to kill this dragon, she could not keep warding them both, healing them both, and providing him with magic for too long. The problem was their proficiencies were on completely opposite ends of the spectrum. She was very talented at Restoration, and to a lesser extent Illusion with a little Alteration thrown in there. His main talents lay in Destruction and Conjuration, the two schools of magic that she could not do. Any transfer hat happened between them would be of the least effective kind due to the conflicting nature of their power, with her magic running out much faster than it should.

With that in mind he asked,

“You think you could give me enough magic for a master spell?”

“Yes, but I’ll be completely out.”

Thinking fast, Naya cast a healing rune on a nearby tree – when did she learn that, healing runes were difficult – , as well as Stoneflesh on himself, before downing the rest of the magic potion and transferring her reserves to Relthreyn, before taking cover behind a group of stones, just in time for the dragon to finish of the giant and turn its attention back to them.

Relthreyn backed away from Naya position, enduring the first gout of flames as it broke through her Stoneflesh spell, his natural resistance warding of the worst of the flames. He _shouted_ **“FEIM”** as the dragon came near, another torrent of fire heralding its approach as Relthreyn charged his spell.

He was happy this was a fire dragon; this would have been so much harder if it weren’t.

He released his spell, a Lightning Storm screaming through the air to electrocute their foe. Naya’s magic quickly ran out after the initial blast, so he gritted his teeth and dug into his own reserves until he saw the tell-tale golden flames of a dragon soul in the air.

In retrospect, maybe he shouldn’t have used a lightning spell while dealing with powerful lightning damage, because his body was not thanking him for it.

He stumbled in to Naya’s healing rune, relief suffusing his system at the burst of restorative light.

The world became fiery gold as the dragon’s – _Loknahyol, Sky Fury Fire_ \- soul streamed into him.

* * *

“Take off your shirt”

“What? Why?”

“I need to touch your scars to heal you, _take off your shirt.”_

Relthreyn removed his shirt, baring the marks he had received from Morokei to the world. He was shaking slightly, the residual magic of the Lightning Storm still sending electric spasms throughout his system. Normally, the aftereffects of a master destruction spell were just a small tingle or change in temperature, depending on the element, but it was an entirely different story in these circumstances.

She traced the marks with a gently glowing hand, relief tingling up his spine as her hands passed, the foreign magic being pulled from his system. He relaxed into her hands, the moment growing more intimate as she continued.

Her hushed voice broke the silence,

“There. All done.”

She was bright red, the color visible through her dark skin.

He quickly pulled his shirt back on and followed the impulse to move slightly closer to her murmuring “thank you”, watching her blush grow deeper as she stuttered some excuse about catching lunch, and retreated to a nearby pond.

Something approaching a realization tingled in the back of his mind and he mentally reviewed all his interactions with Naya ever since that frantic trip to Winterhold.

He had some thinking to do.


	24. Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so, it begins...

**Naya XX**

Her face was burning.

She was sitting by a pond, halfheartedly trying to catch fish.

When she had been pulling the magical residue from his scars, the first thing that came to her mind had been a mix of sorrow and anger. Anger that he had been hurt so much, and sorrow over the fact that she had not noticed him suffering because of it, that she had waited for so long to bring it up. As she had continued to move her hands along his body to complete the process, it struck her that she actually found him attractive, both in looks and otherwise.

This was the first time since her imprisonment by Sindrion that she had actually felt attraction to another person. Or any degree of lust really.

And it was completely inappropriate. He was her friend and traveling companion, she had no business in thinking that about him.

Besides, from what he said about Dunmer culture, it sounded like his people valued strength. She was not strong. Not really. Yes, she could probably make it through this world on her own now, but all she was good at was healing and support, not fighting. She could defend herself to a degree, but that was about it. He would not like her anyways, so there was no point in even considering it.

She resolved to ignore it, to continue as if nothing had happened. It would be better that way.

* * *

  
  


Surprisingly, there was no residual awkwardness from the whole affair, the only difference she detected was Relthreyn being more introspective than usual. She ignored it. A lot had happened lately, and anyone would be contemplative after what happened in Windhelm.

She was just happy that he was better and that they were away from the accursed town.

* * *

She watched as Relthreyn absorbed his second dragon soul in as many days. It always struck her as strange that such a beautiful event would come from the death of such a majestic being, and the dissonance always came to her mind when she witnessed it.

“What was its name?”

“Briizunvur, Beauty Weapon Valor.”

She had noticed that about him, that he always made an effort to remember the names of the dragons he killed. It was something that she admired about him, that he would not let his nature as the Born Dragon Hunter keep him from respecting his fellow dragon kind.

“YOU NEVER SHOULD HAVE COME HERE!”

_Seriously!?_

Moment totally destroyed by the moronic trio of bandits, Naya took a step away from her incredulous companion, recognizing the signs of Relthreyn’s temper coming to the forefront, and prepared herself for a show. He did not disappoint.

“Do you not see the corpse of a _DRAGON_ beside us?”

“Hand over your gold or I’ll take it off your corpse!”

She saw Relthreyn’s incredulous anger grow to truly _astonishing_ heights in the face of the study in stupidity standing in front of them. 

It was like the bandits were living in an alternate reality. Well, that or they were shooting for a Darwin Award.

“Do you _honestly_ not understand how this is going to go for you?”

The bandits attacked. Relthreyn _shouted._

**“ZUN”**

That was a new one. It sounded like part of Briizunvur’s name.

The bandit’s weapons flew out of their hands, Relthreyn falling upon them with rapacious delight. Sometimes it was hard to remember the man was a _dragon_ , an apex predator. Other times it was hard to forget.

It was strange though. Recently his more… draconic outbursts were getting worse. It was occurring more often, and he was getting flashier each time, as if he were showing off to someone. She could always tell if it was his draconic nature rearing its head too. Normally, Relthreyn took the route of ending battle as quickly and efficiently as possible, not being one to drag on conflict for longer than necessary. He enjoyed fighting, enjoyed the challenge of it, but was not usually one to revel in his opponent’s loss. Dragons, on the other hand, drug it out. They – he – enjoyed the battle itself, wanting to completely prove their superiority and dominance absolutely before _allowing_ their unfortunate opponent to die. Much like what Relthreyn was currently doing to these bandits.

It worried her, the outbursts of violence that seemed inherent to his draconic nature. She was not worried for her own safety; she knew that she was right to trust him as much as she did. She was worried more about Relthreyn and what it could mean for him. She knew he was aware of it though, because he made a point of keeping it constrained to the bandits and variety of creatures that attacked them with deadly intent.

The exact thing that concerned her as that he always seemed more settled and relaxed after, like some weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Relthreyn was many things, not all of them good, but needlessly murderous was not one of them. So she didn't understand how killing things was putting him more at ease.

Uninterested in watching more of Relthreyn’s particular brand of stress relief, Naya turned to go cook the fish she had caught earlier, yelling over her shoulder at her bloodthirsty companion.

“I’m not feeding you if you trek blood to our campsite.”

* * *

They were eating lunch when she asked him about it.

They were having an impromptu picnic on top of a hill, Relthreyn having insisted that they relax together as they hadn’t while in Windhelm. It was a beautiful view he had found of the volcanic tundra, the hill overlooking the steaming hot springs and rocky landscape, the day rather hospitable and breezy for once. Despite her resolve to suppress any and all soft feelings, it warmed her to spend time with him like this.

Ignoring her traitorous emotions, she voiced her question.

“You’ve been more… draconic than usual lately. You alright?”

Relthreyn straightened from his relaxed slouch.

“I was wondering when you were going to ask me about that. I’m fine, I just figured it was time to stop ignoring it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ever since the Greybeards called me, it was as if a part of me that had been sleeping all of my life awakened. There were new instincts and urges, and yet some of my past behaviors began to make more sense when I was told what I am. I’ve tried suppressing the more violent parts but, its only made things worse. So now I’m trying to give into it, at least a little, and see how that affects me.”

That made sense. Its not like there were any friendly dragons living on the mountains he could ask about it, and if there were, they were staying far away from him.

“You have seemed less stressed lately. I guess it’s working.”

He looked over at her, noticing her concern.

“Are you worried?”

“I just… I don’t understand. How this Dragonborn thing works. About what it means for you”

He turned to face her, capturing her eyes with his.

“Being Dragonborn… its not that I have a conflicting set of instincts or anything like that, its more like I gained something that I’ve been missing my entire life. When I ‘awoke’, if you could call it that, these new urges felt natural. Like I’d been feeling them my entire life, but never truly realized it. From what I can tell, dragons seem to have an innate desire to dominate, to be aggressive, to strive for power, and just generally try to be the mightiest beings around. All it means is that I have those same urges. I have the soul and blood of a dragon. So, in truth, a dragon is what I am. The struggle I feel is not letting that consume me.”

She got it now. He was trying to pacify his more violent urges by taking them out on the people that tried to kill them, so that he would be able to restrain himself where it truly mattered. Pushing those instincts down would just make it worse when he truly had to show restraint.

“Well in that case, I’m happy that you’ve found something that seems to be working.”

“You don’t care?”

“Care about what?”

“You don’t care about the violence. I know you don’t like hurting people Naya, you prefer to ease pain as opposed to causing it. You don’t care that I can’t do that. If anything, all I’m good at is the exact opposite.”

That was… wrong. That he thought of himself that way.

“Its not that I don’t care. It’s that I accept it. You’re not an elf or a mortal or whatever, you’re a dragon. And I would be a terrible person if I gave up on you because of that. I care about you, and it will take a lot more than being Dragonborn to stop that.”

He lay back, and gazed up at the sky, an inscrutable expression of relief and something else crossing his face.

“And as for not being able to heal hurts… you couldn’t be more wrong about that. You’ve helped heal me. I don’t know where I’d be if I hadn’t run into you. Not all pain is physical, and just by being here and being my friend, you’ve helped me heal from a lot of mine.”

He smiled. After a few more moments of companionable silence, he reached up and tugged on her shoulder, silently asking her to lie next to him. She did, basking in the pleasant sunlight.

He broke their silence exclaiming,

“Enough serious talk. I’ve a question for you.”

“What is it?”

“What’s your full name?”

The triviality of the request caught her off guard.

“What?!”  
  


“You already know mine. I saw your initials, AST, on the journal Colette gave you. What do they stand for?”

She did know his full name, Relthreyn Telthras, having asked about it after she told her about his mother – whose last name, according to the Arch-Mage, was Aren. Apparently in Ashlander naming tradition, the parent with the higher status passes on their name to their children, and as his mother was in exile, Relthreyn got his unknown father’s last name instead of his mother’s.

“Naya is a nickname actually, it stands for Anunaya. Anunaya Savannah Tayshas.”

He sounded it out, his accent caressing the syllables, making the name sound exotic.

“It’s a beautiful name. It suits you.”

She looked away from him, blushing red.

They eased into a comfortable silence, enjoying the rare peaceful day

* * *

Naya ducked a frost spell from a Thalmor Justicar, and ducked behind a tree, casting Ironflesh and Unseen on herself. She had three doses of lingering magic poison on her, eight more seconds of invisibility left to come up with a plan, and two enemies to contend with.

She also had no idea where Relthreyn was.

They were out of the volcanic tundra and had just entered the forests of southern Skyrim when they were attacked by a patrol. Most went for Relthreyn, who was currently leading the reset on a wild goose chase through the forest, while two wizards went for her, correctly figuring her to be the less experienced combatant. She ducked behind a boulder, and cast Detect Life, locating the other Justicar, before charging a fear spell and hitting her attacker with it. She knew it wouldn’t work, Illusion spells only being truly effective on the weak minded, but she knew it would stagger him for a moment as he threw it off.

She covered a sharp rock with magicka poison before throwing it at his head causing him to curse and use the rest of his reserves to cast healing spell, before disappearing into the woods once more. She ran for the other Justicar, a woman, casting a greater ward with one hand, and drawing her – also poisoned - dagger with the other. She knew she could not overpower them with magic, but she would bet that her wards were strong enough to fend off the other woman’s spell. Naya pressed forwards, using her ward to block the sparks spell sent her way and managed to get close enough for the Justicar to draw her dagger. Naya blocked the first swing, and dodged the next, before unexpectedly lunging forwards, allowing the woman to break her magical armor with her next strike, and struck with her poisoned dagger, only getting in a shallow hit before the Justicar pulled away.

Naya turned and bolted in the direction of the of wizard, the Justicar giving chase.

Naya heard a lightning spell charging, and ran towards it, before hitting the deck as an overcharged lightning bolt streamed from the trees ahead of her, the spell hitting her other assailant. The Altmer collapsed, not being able to get a ward up due to her poisoned magic.

One down, one to go.

The now very pissed Justicar began to shoot fireballs at Naya, knowing better than to allow her to get too close.

Naya ducked and dodged the missiles, an idea forming in her mind. She quickly cast Oakflesh and began to charge a conjuration spell with the last of her power. There was a brief lull in combat as the Justicar ran out of magicka, and Naya threw herself at him, bracing herself for the pain of her spell.

An explosion shook the air. Two down. 

Naya lay on the ground, her Oakflesh broken by her unstable spell. She lay there, stunned, as she waited for her magic to regenerate enough for a healing spell.

After a few moments, she pulled herself off the ground and healed herself as much as she could. She heard an earth-shattering Shout in the distance, along with the sound of something being set on fire.

Found Relthreyn.

She checked over both Thalmor to insure they were dead and rifled through their pockets picking out an important looking note before slowly walking in the direction of sound.

* * *

It was midday, and they were perched in the boughs of a sturdy tree. Below them was a family of foxes frolicking around a clearing, their happy yips and barks reverberating in the air.

Relthreyn had been doing this more often, showing her the beauty Skyrim had to offer. It seemed that every other day her would either find them a scenic area to eat in, or some amazing aspect of nature to show her.

Not wanting to scare of the foxes, she spoke in a hushed whisper.

"Why the detours? I know that you want to get to Riften as soon as possible, so why?"

"Do you not like them?"

"No, I love them. I'm just curious. I know you've seen all of this a million times already, so why the outings?"

He turned away from the foxes to look at her.

"I'm doing this because I treasure time spent with you. Seeing this makes you happy, and I enjoy seeing you happy."

Despite herself, affection for him welled up in her heart.

* * *

Eventually, they left to continue their trek to Riften, though Relthreyn seemed very exasperated about something. 

Right now, Naya was content. They were finally out of the bitterly cold northern Skyrim, she had a person who made her happy, and a potential place of safety

Things were looking up.


	25. Riften. Finally.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relthreyn is exasperated, Riften is shifty, and Naya is not OK.

**Relthreyn XXI**

She was so oblivious.

For a woman who was as observant and as good at reading him as Naya was, she had a lot of trouble interpreting his actions.

The worst part was that he was reasonably certain that she held some kind of romantic inclination towards him, so it wasn’t like she was uninterested. 

It was like every time he did something, she somehow interpreted it as a friendship thing.

He wouldn’t add Azura knows how much travel time to their _time sensitive_ trip if was just a _friendship thing_.

So yes. Relthreyn was exasperated about something.

* * *

It was getting worse.

As time went on, he was becoming for attuned to his dragon soul, and as he grew more in tune with himself, the accompanying urges became stronger. Hopefully, someone in the upcoming town needed something dead, or he would have to channel his inner Companion and start challenging random people to ‘tests of strength’.

He wrapped Dawnbreaker in cloth, obscuring his sword's glow, as they approached Shor’s Stone. The sword was far too recognizable, and they were trying to be subtle.

He preferred to avoid going through towns, but Shor’s Stone was the only safe way through the mountains, and he wasn’t a fan of rock climbing.

“Up ahead is Shor’s Stone, a small mining town. It’ll be our last stop before Riften.”

“How long are we staying?”

“Just a couple of hours. I was going to see if there was a quick job I could do for someone, I don’t know how hard it will be to get work in Riften.”

“I’ll see if anyone needs a healer while we’re there. More money never hurts.”

She gave him a considering look,

“You’re feeling restless aren’t you.”

“Yes.”

“Well hopefully there’s something for that there too.”

* * *

Thankfully, there was a convenient Frostbite Spider infestation in the mine for him to take care of, as well as some injured miners for Naya to heal.

The clearing of the mine was rather simple, he just walked in and set every living thing (including himself) on fire. Then he found the spider eggs and set those on fire too. It was… relaxing. To be perfectly honest, it was the first time he had felt at peace in days.

He collected his septims from the old blacksmith and met Naya in front of a miner’s house. As they rode out of the town, she studied him for a few moments before asking,

“Relthreyn, is it the fight itself that calms you, or the chance to test your skills?”

That was a good question.

“Because even with the whole…you know. Killing of things, you’re still tense. At the College, you seemed pretty good when you were working on your Alteration with Tolfdir with and when you were teaching the apprentices. Maybe try both?”

She had a good point. The whole ‘killing of things’ was working, but not as well as he would like it too.

Actually, her talking about the College reminded him…

“Here.”

Dangling from his fingers was a simple, yet elegant necklace with a wooden pendant glowing with magicka hanging from it.

“What’s this?”

“It’s so when we inevitably get separated, we don’t have to spend half the day looking for each other.”

“How’s it work?”

“The enchantment only activates if you pour magic into it, and it acts as a beacon to the other necklace” – which was around his neck – “ which will heat up as it gets closer to its twin, so it’s not a constant tracker or anything. Its keyed to the first person who pours their magic into it so the enchantment will go dormant if one of us dies.”

She was quiet for a moment before chuckling lightly,

“Thank you. I do get lost a lot, don’t I?”

He couldn’t resist teasing her.

“Maybe you’ll be able to avoid running into dragons now. That’s my job”

_“That only happened twice.”_

He watched her for a few moments before holding the necklace up slightly.

“May I?”

She nodded, and he draped the necklace around her neck, the pendant coming to rest on her sternum, slightly above her breasts. He held her eyes with his before speaking quietly.

“You’re lovely.”

Her eyes widened and she flushed a delicate pink, before stuttering about picking some Alchemy ingredients and running off into the forest.

So observant, yet so oblivious.

* * *

“Relthreyn, what’s Riften like? We’re going to stay there until Delphine contacts you right? Or until Alduin becomes too much of a problem?”

Alduin. Yes, Alduin was less of an issue than he thought he would be. The Dragon had not exactly done anything outright destructive yet, in fact, Relthreyn had not heard anything about a giant terrifying dragon at all. It was as if he were hiding or something, but that did not make any sense. Why would the Nordic god of the End need to hide from anything? But he digressed. Riften.

“Officially, Riften is a quiet fishing city with a fair Jarl, Laila Law-Giver, who sympathizes with the Stormcloak cause. Unofficially, it is the criminal capitol of Skyrim, with the real ruler being Maven Blackbriar.”

“That’s why we’re going there. The criminal element?”

“Yes. If I can get in with the Thieves Guild, we’ll have a greater measure of protection because they take care if their own. Even if we can’t it’s a good place to disappear… I’m assuming you don’t want to be a thief?”

Relthreyn himself did not have much of a problem with stealing, provided that he wasn’t about to completely destroy someone’s life. What could he say, spending his formative years as a nomadic exile hadn’t done much for his morals. He knew Naya did not have much of a problem with it, if she had, she would have made her opinion very clear by now.

“Nope. I’m happy being a law-abiding citizen.”

That was what he thought.

* * *

**Naya XXI**

Their welcome to Riften started with a corrupt guard and ended with a panic attack.

They arrived near the end of the day, the sun just beginning to caress the horizon.

The guard at the entrance had tried to charge them with a “visitor’s tax”, with Relthreyn responding…characteristically.

After they entered the city, leaving one terrified guard in their wake, they were immediately stopped by a high-class thug who warned them to stay off of Maven Black-Briar’s bad side.

And to top in all off, Relthreyn got into a conversation with a shifty red-headed Nord, who somehow managed to correctly identify Relthreyn as a person of less than stellar moral fiber, about stealing something from an Argonian.

Naya knew he would do it.

The thing that she had learned about Relthreyn was that it was not morals that dictated his deeds. No, it was preservation and protection for himself, and the people he cared about. He would only go out of his way for someone if he felt he owed them, or if he cared about them.

Warning Whiterun and fighting Mirmulnir? Ralof and the Jarl had helped him, so he returned it in kind.

The College? They had healed her and provided them with a place to stay. Arch-Mage had information about his mother, along with being family. And family meant something to Relthreyn.

Even helping Quintus Navale was not out of the goodness of his heart, but because she had asked him to.

So, framing someone for theft to get into the Guild? Yes, he would definitely do that.

It was not something that she particularly liked, but it was something she did accept. After all, wasn’t she the same way? He protected himself and those dear to him, even at the expense of those he was not close to. And as selfish as that sounded, she was like that too. Everyone was like that. To care for you and yours above all else was simply human – or elven, mortal, whatever it was called - nature. Relthreyn was just more honest about it than most.

* * *

They had just exited the inn after settling their rent with the Argonian innkeeper, intending to take a quick walk through the marketplace before the rest of the light faded when the vampire attack came.

There were three of them, all women, a dark haired Bosmer, and two Imperials.

It was her first encounter with a vampire, and she found the creatures viscerally unnerving. Their skin was just a little too pale, their features too sharp, their eyes too intent. And their gazes… they were wrong. They looked at you as if they wanted to consume you whole.

Relthreyn reacted first, with an opening salvo of firebolts that elicited screeches of pain from their undead foes. He immediately conjured a bound sword, unwilling to use Dawnbreaker unless absolutely necessary, and attacked.

The other one went for Naya, striking out with a drain life spell.

The spell…did nothing. Much to the confusion to herself and her undead foe.

Wait. _Undead._

Focusing inwards, Naya drew out Meridia’s Blessing and watched in astonishment at the vampire immediately went up into mystical flames. Seizing the advantage, Naya drew her dagger and attacked. If the Blessing was anything like Dawnbreaker, then the flames would not harm the living.

As Naya attacked, she realized that this vampire must be very young, and very weak, because she was not the best at close combat, most likely used to relying on vampiric spells instead.

Unskilled or not, she was still a vampire, a natural predator of mortal or mer. Naya locked blades with her, taking the brief moment to charge an Ironflesh spell before unexpectedly lunging forwards, knocking them both to the ground. With the close contact, the burns from the Blessing worsened, the vampire writhing in pain until Naya buried her dagger into her heart, putting her out of her misery.

The light from the Blessing faded, and Naya pulled herself to her knees and turned just in time to see a heavily armored woman cut the dark haired Bosmer down.

Naya froze, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

The woman reached out a hand in the direction of her face.

Naya flinched back before catching herself and freezing once more. She tried to speak, but her voice froze in her throat.

The woman reached for her again, this time brushing her face before a grey, scarred hand appeared in her vision, pulling the blond nord away from her.

Relthreyn was kneeling in front of her, patiently holding out a hand.

She didn’t know how much time it took, but she reached out and grasped it. He was warm. Comforting.

“Can you speak?”

Nay gave a slight shake of her head.

“Can you walk?”

She tried to rise, but her muscles were still frozen. She felt hollow. Doll-like, as if she only existed for someone to manipulate to their will. Naya never thought that she would feel like this again. Never thought that something as simple as a hand brushing her face could bring her this low.

“May I carry you?”

She nodded.

She felt herself be lifted off the ground as her world faded into a haze, unwanted memories rising to the forefront of her mind.

Welcome to Riften, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those were some very young and very inexperienced vampires. Naya's not going to magically became a one woman vampire slaying machine, but the Blessing will help a lot with the undead


	26. Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relthreyn gets into the Guild and Naya gets a job.

**Relthreyn XXII**

They were in their room at the inn, He and Naya having agreed to share to save money until they could find work.

She was shaking, eyes staring at nothing. This was the worst one she’d had yet, and he didn’t know what to do.

Normally when something like this happened, she would move closer to him, and take comfort from his presence, but she had never panicked this badly before.

His thoughts raced, trying to think of anything he could do to help her, when his mind landed on the Altmer woman she had told him about. He remembered how Naya had told him once about her Altmer friend. Specifically, how they had interacted when imprisoned together.

Carefully, he sat beside her on the bed, and grasped her hand in his. He took a moment to gather his thoughts and spoke.

He spoke of his mother, of his childhood, of random adventures and anecdotes, of anything he could think of.

He saw her breath hitch as Naya came out of her haze. She blinked, before turning to look at him and their tangled hands.

He broke the silence.

“Would you like to talk about it, or do you want me to drop it?”

Her jaw worked for a moment, and he thought that she wasn’t going to say anything, before he saw her force herself to speak.

“The Nord woman, killing the Bosmer and reaching for my face. It... I can’t…when Yaevis was killed.” He remembered her telling him about the woman who had taken her in, but she never mentioned how she had died before. Naya shivered, as if she were repulsed by something.

“The woman brushed her hand across my face after…”

He understood now.

“It reminded you of the bandits.”

“Yes.”

There was a few more moments of silence.

“I felt like a doll…I couldn’t even move when she reached for me.”

He didn’t know whether she was talking about then or now.

“…That was the worst part of it all. No matter what they did to me, the worst part was that there were times that I honestly didn’t feel human. They treated me like I was an empty vessel, only there to fulfill their desires…like I didn’t have any value apart from what they gave to me. I was only defined by their terms.”

This was the first time she had spoken about what happened to her and it was…horrific. He knew what had happened to her, but this was the first time that he knew how she felt. He could make guesses, but it wasn’t the same as hearing it from her.

That she felt less than human… he hoped she never felt that way again.

She chuckled ruefully,

“Actually, that’s why I stayed with you in the beginning. You never made me feel that way.”

Relthreyn could not deny the relief that swept over him when her heard that. He knew that of the two of them, he was the one with the more forceful personality, that more often than not he was the one that spoke for them both. He never wanted to take that from her, to make her feel lesser in his presence.

“You let me come to you, you didn’t push for anything. When you speak for me when I cannot, you always make sure that I’m getting what _I_ need, and not anything less. You do it _for_ me, not _to_ me. You treat me like I’m a person. And you don’t realize what a blessing that is until that’s been taken away from you.”

Grasping his hand tighter, she continued.

“Even when I was at my lowest, you reminded me that I’m more than a puppet, that I’m not defined by the acts of others. That the only person who can define me is myself. That is why I stayed with you.”

* * *

To be perfectly honest, it rather annoyed him the Brynjolf wouldn’t say why who wanted Brand-Shei imprisoned. If he was going to do a job, he liked to have all of the information about it.

He made a mental note to pay Brand-Shei’s bounty later. If only out of spite.

Naya was leaning against the well in the center of the marketplace, holding a hot beverage out of a tankard, acting as a lookout of sorts for him. She might not want to be part of the Guild, but she didn’t want him to get caught either.

After their talk last night, there was a new sort of closeness between them, an understanding that they had previously lacked. It was a terrifying, heady thing, to have another person trust you with their vulnerabilities like that. He’d already admitted that he was falling for her in his own mind, but that just reinforced it. To him, having Naya’s trust was no small thing, and he treasured her all the more for it.

Brynjolf had begun speaking, and at Naya’s signal – a sip of her tea – that there were no guards, he picked open the gate and strongbox, swiping Madesi’s ring. He casually went over to the straw that Bran-Shei was sitting on an slipped the ring into his pocket, before leaning against the wall to listen to the rest of Brynjolf’s speech- Falmer Blood Elixir, really? Relthreyn was legitimately impressed that he could get people to buy that.

The crowd dispersed and he listened with half an ear to Brynjolf’s instructions to go through the Ratway to get to the Ragged Flagon. Direction’s received, he went to join Naya against the frame of the well and watched as Brand-Shei got dragged of to a jail cell.

“You want me to pay his bounty off for you, don’t you?”

“I would appreciate it, yes.”

“This is out of pure spite, correct?”

“Correct.”

She laughed, shaking her head in pure disbelief.

“You're an absurd man.”

She pushed off the frame of the well, and started walking to the jail, catching the bag of septims he tossed at her.

“I’ll go do that. Have fun fighting people in the Ratway.”

* * *

The Ratway was… disappointing. He was hoping that he would find a good fight, but the only interesting thing in there was the enchantment on someone's gauntlets. Still, it made for great stress relief. He didn’t even kill any of them, just knocked them out. Naya would be so proud of his restraint.

He approached the Ragged Flagon, overhearing the conversation between Brynjolf and his Guildmembers.

“…I’m telling you Delvin, this one’s different.”

“We’ve all hard that one before, Bryn, give it up”

“Its time to face the truth, old friend, you, Vex, Mercer, you’re all part of a dying breed.”

“Dying breed, eh? Well what do you call that then!”

He decided that he liked Brynjolf.

“Well, well…colour me impressed lad, I wasn’t certain I’d ever see you again. How was it?”

“Boring.”

“Reliable and headstrong? You’re turning out to be quite the prize. If you take care of something for me, I can promise you a permanent spot in my organization…”

* * *

This was not his first time collecting money on behalf of someone. They were staying in Keerava’s inn, so he couldn’t afford to piss her off too much. He wasn’t one for threatening people’s family, so he decided to speak to her last

Haelga and Bersi were quick and easy, just a little thievery and the threat of property damage to take care of that. Keerava payed quickly, having heard how he dealt with the other two, as he thought she would.

Relthreyn didn’t think he could instantly dislike some one more than Delphine, but Mercer Frey proved him wrong. After hearing the Guild Master talk for five seconds, he began to feel the mysterious urge to light him on fire. And like Delphine, he immediately wanted him to do something ridiculous to ‘prove his worth’.

Brynjolf on the other hand… yes, Relthreyn like the red-haired Nord. He was sticking out his neck to help him, and by extension, Naya. Reltheyn appreciated that.

Relthreryn made a mental note to avoid Mercer as much as possible lest he give in to the urge to set him on fire.

Unfortunately, needs must, so Reltheryn had to break into the Goldenglow Estate and burn some beehives.

At least he'll get to set something on fire.

* * *

He went back to the inn, avoiding Keerava’s hostile gaze to speak with Naya before he went to case the Estate.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better, a lot better. You?”

“I’ve need to break into a heavily guarded Estate to “prove myself”, but I’m in.”

“…I want to be surprised, but I’m really not.”

There was an awkward pause before Naya broke it, her words coming out in a rush.

“Relthreyn, about last evening, I’m sor – “

“Don’t. Don’t apologize for that. There’s nothing wrong with talking to someone about that. Trust me, I know.”

Relthreyn was over one hundred and sixty years old. He’d spent most of that time wandering Tamriel, and while he had seen and experienced many wondrous things, he had also seen and experienced his fair share of terrible things as well. He knew that keeping trauma locked inside to fester never ended well.

“In Windhelm you told me that you’d stand by my side, no matter what I chose to do, and I know you meant that for more than just the war. That goes both ways. If you need to talk about it, I’m here. Nothing you could say could turn me away from you.”

She looked stunned. And happy, like she’d never had someone offer her this kind of support. And maybe she hadn’t. She had never really spoken of her life before Nirn, and he didn’t know what it was like, though he could make a few guesses.

“I... thank you.”

She shook her head and put on a smile.

“Enough of this heavy stuff! I saw Keerava was giving you the stink eye. She mad at you for collecting her debt?”

“Yes.”

She had every right to be angry too. Somehow, he didn’t think the Guild had been polite about the entire affair.

“Well, if you want her to stop hating you, the find three flawless amethysts for Talen-Jei, and he’ll make her back off. He wants to propose to her, but can’t complete his engagement ring without them.”

“How do you know this?”

“People say a lot when they think they can’t be overheard.”

Relthreyn shouldn’t have been surprised. Everyone they had interacted with had dismissed Naya, taking her quiet personality and making her a non-entity in their minds. They never really took notice of her unless attention was deliberately drawn to her.

“Flawless amethysts… Thank you, Naya. I’ll keep that in mind.”

He would probably find some in Goldenglow, and he really didn’t want to deal with a hostile innkeeper. They’d had enough of that in Windhelm.

* * *

**Naya XXII**

Naya’s day had been significantly less illegal than Relthreyn’s. After bailing Brand-Shei out of jail, to the Dunmer’s gratitude, she had decided to wander the city. She wanted to get used to the place she would be spending the foreseeable future in.

She felt weird after her episode the previous night. She was mortified that she had broken down in front of Relthreyn, but at the same time relieved that it was he that she had been with. She wouldn’t be able to bear it if she were that vulnerable around a stranger.

The city was humid, incredibly so, what with it being partially on a lake. There were two levels too it, with the market being up high, and the less than legal merchandise being below. Below was where she found what really interested her. An Alchemy Shop.

From what she heard form the townsfolk, the proprietors on the shop were advanced in years, and had and apprentice, Ingun Black-Briar. Their apprentice didn’t do work around the shop, being there to learn alchemy, not run a store. Maybe they needed some help...

She opened the door to the Apothecary, immediately seeing an elderly woman at the counter, and a pretty dark-haired woman working at the alchemy table.

“Welcome. Is there anything I can help you with?”

Naya took a deep breath. She could do this. She opened her mouth and spoke in a quiet voice.

“Actually, I was wondering if I could find work.”

“Oh? I could use some more help around the shop… tell me, what credentials do you have?”

Good. She was interested.

Naya had actually requested a letter from Colette a while back, so that she could have a resumé of sorts for potential employers. She fished the letter out of her pocket, and handed it to the woman.

“A member of the College, I see…Ingun, come over here, please. I need you to read this.”

As Ingun read the letter the imperial woman addressed Naya again.

“It says that you apprenticed under Healer Colette Marence for a time, correct?”

Naya nodded.

“Which means you should have at least a rudimentary knowledge of alchemy… if you were to work here, you wouldn’t be paid much.”

Excitement rose in Naya’s veins. Payment wasn’t the problem, if she did well enough, she could probably get a raise in the future. Besides, she had enough money left over to sustain herself for a while.

“Not an issue.”

“You would be responsible for cleaning and general upkeep. If someone comes in here looking for restorative services, and you can provide it, you will get a percentage of the payment. You would be expected to go outside the city to fetch ingredients with Ingun when I send her. Once I determine your proficiency at alchemy, I may change what I would like you to do. I do not tolerate thievery, rudness, or backtalk, and I expect you to be polite and respectful to all customers unless you have an _incredibly_ good reason.”

That sounded part and parcel of general customer service expectations.

Naya nodded.

“Good. Now, go out with Ingun to gather ingredients. If she approves of you, you’re hired.”

* * *

Ingun Black-Briar was a very sweet, if moderately terrifying woman. Naya got the vibe that she was all flowers and sweetness until you pushed her too far, and then she would poison you in your sleep. She had the bearing of a woman who was born into power and knew how to use it.

Their ingredient excursion went well, with Naya eventually agreeing to show Ingun some of what she learned from Colette in exchange for some alchemy lessons from the other woman. It was near dusk when they retreated back to the Apothecary, Ingun recommending her for the job as soon as they walked in.

All in all, it was a good day.

* * *

Sleep was eluding her. Their room had two beds, and she was laying in the one furthest from the door, ruminating over Relthreyn’s words to her.

_“In Windhelm you told me that you’d stand by my side, no matter what I chose to do, and I know you meant that for more than just the war. That goes both ways. If you need to talk about it, I’m here. Nothing you could say could turn me from you.”_

No one had ever given her that kind of support. Ever. On Earth, she lived simple, if lonely life. She woke up, did her job, went home, and slept, rinse and repeat. She’d never had any close friends, and she wasn’t at all close to her family, the ones she had been truly attached to had died years ago.

His words shouldn’t have surprised her like they did. He had shown it in his actions, but to hear him say it. To hear that he wanted to be there for her, it overwhelmed her. Despite her previous resolve she couldn’t deny it, not anymore. 

She could admit that she was falling for him, if only to herself


	27. Loud and Clear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relthreyn breaks into Goldenglow, Naya speaks to an Argonian on the docks.

**Relthreyn XXIII**

Goldenglow estate was swarming with mercenaries. He had already scouted out the sewer Vex had told him about and was waiting for the night shift of mercenaries to become inattentive before he struck. Relthreyn planned to steal from the manor first and then set the beehives on fire. He didn’t want to alert the mercenaries until he could slip off the property. This was apparently for Maven Black-Briar, so he _really_ couldn’t screw this up. He could remember Brynjolf’s instructions.

_‘Maven prefers that Aringoth remain alive, but if he tries to stop you, kill him.’_

Relthreyn could not afford to get on Maven’s bad side, he had already caused enough trouble for himself. Riften was to be a haven for himself and Naya until Delphine contacted him. Killing Arngoth would be more trouble than it was worth, and he probably would not be able to persuade him, so had an alternate plan instead. Thankfully, Aringoth apparently wasn't much of a combatant.

An hour later, he found Vex's entrance and slipped inside. Quickly making his way through the sewers, he emerged in front of the entrance to the mansion. He picked the lock, and crept in. First, he needed steal a dagger.

* * *

He was nearly to Aringoth’s room. He had stolen a dagger from a mercenaries’ chest and poisoned it. He was currently hiding behind a wardrobe to avoid being caught. He snuck down the hall to see another mercenary by the master bedroom. Relthreyn slowly crept behind the man and slipped into the bedroom, unseen.

Aringoth was cowering in the corner, his back to Relthreyn.

Relthreyn had no intention of talking to Aringoth, or even being seen by the Bosmer, so he simply hit him with a paralysis spell, a weakening spell, and drew his stamina poison coated dagger. As Aringoth collapsed onto to the floor, Relthreyn approached him and thinly cut him with the poisoned blade. Relthreyn used a very strong poison to get past the Bosmer resistance to poison, and waited for a few moments as the paralysis spell wore off, pleased the see the mer was unconscious.

The weakening spell was usually useless, but when combined with paralysis and a stamina poison, it would render a person unconscious. Of course, it only worked on people like Aringoth, who didn't have much experience in fending of mages.

Relthreyn wasn’t usually one to use poison, but he didn’t want to kill the man if he didn’t have to, and he definitely didn’t want to be seen by him. He’d used a Deadly Stamina Poison, so he had about half an hour before Aringoth woke up.

Acting quickly, he rifled through the man’s pockets and stole the key to his safe before making to exit the room before he spotted a peculiar looking statue of a bee on a shelf. After a moment of indecision, he swiped that, too.

The rest of the mission went smoothly, the mercenaries not being very attentive. The safe held the Goldenglow Bill of Sale along with some gold and a few jewels and jewelry he pocketed for himself. Relthreyn snuck back outside through the sewers and emerged by the lakeside. He quickly made his way to an island within view of the beehives, and quickly shot off a group firebolts, burning three of the hives.

As the mercenaries swarmed the area, Relthreyn slipped into the lake, making for Riften.

* * *

“Aringoth sold Goldenglow? What’s that idiot thinking? He has no idea the extent of Maven’s fury once she’s been cut out of a deal, but I’m sure he’ll find out.”

This whole Thieves Guild business had gotten a lot more complicated than he wanted it to be.

“If only the parchment had the buyer’s name instead of this odd symbol. Any idea what that might be?”

“No idea.”

“Blast. Well, I’ll check my sources and speak to Mercer. But for mow, you’re off to speak to Maven Black-Briar. She asked for you by name.”

Great. Only partially joking he responded, 

“Sure, but will I come out of there alive?”

Brynjolf chuckled. “If it was like that, she wouldn’t be asking for you, she’d be calling on the Dark Brotherhood. It’s just business.”

“What does Maven want from me?”

“That’s between you and Maven and I prefer to keep it that way. Don’t worry about it. Maven’s business dealings usually involve quite a bit of gold for her people.”

“Speaking of gold…”

“Of course, your pay. Heh, you are smart as a whip, lad. Keep doing right by us and there’s plenty more where that came from. Until next we meet.”

Payment received, Relthreyn headed off to go find Naya. He had done a simple job to become a full member of the guild, and then somehow got involved in what was looking to be some big conspiracy against the organization.

He had to admit it, Naya was onto something when she called him danger prone.

* * *

First, Relthreyn went to Madesi’s stall to buy a sliver bracelet – for Naya, silver was good for enchanting and she wasn’t one for complicated jewelry– and then he went to the blacksmith to commission a glass dagger for her as well. The dagger she had was enchanted, but it was old and the enchantment itself weak. Besides, enchantments worked best for the person who enchanted them.

Second, he found Naya eating a late lunch in the inn. She was conversing – well, listening – to a dark haired woman in rich looking cloths – dark hair, Nord, aristocratic bearing, probably Ingun Black-Briar- before she saw him, and smiled, waving him over. Avoiding the hostile gaze of Keerava, Reltheryn bought some food from Talen-Jei and joined them.

The woman saw him approach and stood, shooting a teasing glance at Naya, to the other woman’s embarrassment.

“Well, I’ll talk to you when you get back to the shop. Have a good lunch, Naya.”

The woman strode off, and Reltheyn took her place, settling across form Naya.

“Heard that your job went well.”

How did she know that?

“I got back an hour ago, how do you know that?”

“Ingun told me about it.”

“Ingun? As in Ingrid Black-Briar?”

So that woman was Ingun, he was right.

“I work with her at the apothecary. She mentioned something about her mother being pleased with recent business affairs, so I figured that meant your job went well.”

“You work at the apothecary?”

“Got the job yesterday after you left.”

“I’m happy for you. Ah, yes.. here.”

Slightly anxious, he handed her the bracelet he had bought. She held it, turning it over in her hands, before speaking.

“You got this for me?”

“You’re learning enchanting, silver is a good metal for magic. Besides, I wanted to get you a gift.”

“Why? Its not a special occasion or anything?”

“There’s no reason, I just wanted to give you a gift. You like it?”

She smiled. “Yes. Yes, it’s beautiful… thank you.”

They lapsed into silence as they enjoyed their meal, before Relthreyn spoke again.

“Do you happen to know where Maven is, by any chance?”

Naya gave him a scrutinizing look.

“Yeah… she’s upstairs. Why do you need to know?”

“She wants to speak to me.”

She gave him a level stare before speaking,

“I thought we were supposed to be laying low here.”

Relthreyn gave a helpless shrug

“At least I’ll be on her good side…?”

Naya exhaled sharply before looking slightly embarrassed herself.

“I mean, I don’t have a leg to stand on ‘cause I’m managed to get involved with a Skooma Trade ring today…”

What.

* * *

**Naya XXIII**

Naya’s day had been substantially more law-abiding than Relthreyn’s, but in some ways, just a dramatic.

In light of her recent realization, Naya had decided to go for a walk at the docks when the sun rose. She would be reporting to the Apothecary after lunch, so she had time to burn.

So. She was half in love with Relthreyn. That was… something. She didn’t want to ruin their friendship because of her feelings. Naya valued him for who he was, not because of how he felt about her. She would enjoy her friendship with him, and not say anything about it.

Resolve set, she continued wandering throughout the docks.

A tide of worry surged within her as she way the shadowy silhouette of Goldenglow through the misty air over the lake. She hoped Relthreyn got back safely.

Ignoring her concern, Naya lifted her eyes to oncoming dawn.

The sun was rising in the sky, painting the sky with ranges and peaks. The lake was dyed the same colors, the light making the water akin to flame. All in all, it was beautiful. A voice interrupted her reverie.

“Please, help me! I’ll lose my job at the fishery!”

What? How could she help with that?

"My job at the Riften Fishery is in danger. The owner, Bolli, said that if I show up for work in this condition one more time, then I'm out. I don't mean to do this to myself, but I can't help it. I tried some skooma a year ago, and ever since then, I can't stop! If you could give me a healing potion, I could cleanse this poison from my body and get back to my life."

Oh… she was addicted to Skooma. Compassion welled up in Naya, and she fished a healing potion out of her pocket and gave it to the desperate Argonian. The woman accepted it gratefully.

“Thank you. Your kindness will never be forgotten.”

How did a poor woman come by Skooma? She couldn’t even afford a potion of minor healing, how could she afford the substantially more expensive Skooma?

Naya cleared her throat before the Argonian could walk away, grabbing her attention.

“Where?”

“What? No. I can’t tell you.”

Naya gave the Argonian a level stare.

“You owe me.”

After a few more moments, the woman reluctantly gave in.

“Okay, okay, I’ll tell you. I got it from Sathris Idren. His base if the Warehouse. It’s always locked and only he and the Jarl have a key.”

Well then. To the Jarl.

* * *

Laila Law-Giver seemed like a good, if completely oblivious woman. It was obvious to Naya, who had only spent about ten minuets in her presence, that all the real power belonged to the Black-Briars.

Naya was to go to the warehouse and ‘convince’ him to ‘end his operation’. She had just wanted to report the incident but, apparently, she was to deal with it instead of the highly trained and competent city guard. Or even a highly trained and competent mercenary.

Exasperated, Naya saw the position of the sun in the sky and cursed under her breath. She hurried down to the apothecary. She did not want to be late for her second day on the job.

She pushed open the door to be greeted by her employer’s voice.

“Good, you’re here. Go help Ingun take inventory”  
  


Naya gave a slight bow of acknowledgement and hurried past the counter to where her co worker was standing.

“Ah, Naya. Could you sort these” – Ingun gestured to a shelf on her left – “ by price and effect and I’ll do the one’s on this shelf here.”

Naya nodded and got down to work. She was halfway through her sorting hen Ingun spoke,

“How was your morning?”

“Good. Yours?”

“Well, Mother was in a good mood this morning, so it was alright.”

Naya cocked her head.

“Oh?”

“Yes. Something about her business with Goldenglow going well. I don’t know, I don’t involve myself with her dealings.”

Goldenglow. Relthreyn’s job must have gone well. The worry that had been plaguing her since he left vanished.

* * *

It was halfway through the afternoon when she and Ingun went for a late lunch during a lull in business. They went to the inn to get some food, Ingun getting heavy discount by virtue of being a Black-Briar.

Honestly, Naya didn’t know why Maven wasn’t the Jarl. Its not like she didn’t rule the city anyways.

“So what brings you to Riften anyways?”

Naya looked up at her inquisitive companion,

“Oh… My friend.”

“Your friend?”

“Relthreyn.”

Ingun sat up a little, her bearing more intent at the information.

“Oh? The newest member of the Thieves Guild? You’re with him?”

_With_ him? Naya flicked her eyes down to her still untouched soup.

“We came from Winterhold.”

“The College. You had a letter from Master Healer Marence, you are a member of the College, then? Why did you leave if you don’t mind me asking? From the letter it seemed like you had a lot going for you there.”

Right. Black-Briar. 'Staying out of business' or not, it would be in Ingun’s – well, Maven’s – best interests to know these things.

Naya answered noncommittally.

“We wanted a change in scenery.”

Message received, Ingun stopped her line of questioning, before pouncing on a more embarrassing subject.

“So you’re _with_ him, are you?”

Naya went red.

“What!? No!”

“But you want to be, don’t you?”

Miffed, Naya shot her a fiery look. Ingun smiled victoriously, sensing prime teasing material.

The door opened, admitting the man in question.

“Oh, look, he’s right there!”

At the expression on Naya’s face, Ingun giggled lightly, before backing off.

“Alright, I’ll stop… for now”

As Relthreyn made his way to the two woman, Ingun gave her one last mischievous look, much to Naya’s exasperation, before excusing herself.

* * *

After pointing Relthreyn to Maven, Naya went back to the shop to finish off her day.

Once her shift ended, she made her way to the Warehouse. Standing in the shadows around the building, Naya steadied herself, and snuck in.

She had a drug dealer to contend with.


	28. The Raid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naya finds some drug dealers, Reltheryn goes to Whiterun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter instead of sleeping.

**Naya XXIV**

Annoyed, Naya cleaned the blood on her dagger of on Orini Dral’s body. Sneaking in had been pointless, the now dead Dunmer had spotted her immediately and had proceeded to attack her. She, as always, had coated her dagger in stamina poison, which with the drain vitality enchantment was a lethal duo. After that, it was a matter of dodging and chipping away at his stamina, until she could get that fatal blow in.

To be honest, Naya was not unhappy with the fact that he attacked her on sight. The Jarl had made it clear that she wanted all parties involved in this dead, and assassination was not a thing that Naya wanted to participate in, even is she could be decent about it, with her penchant for sneaking during combat. Killing after someone had attacked her first was much easier for her to bear.

Naya quietly made her way down to the basement to find Sarthis Idren, only to quickly duck and roll under an axe strike from the man himself. She rose from her couch and pushed magic into her empty right hand, lighting a fear spell. Normally, she wouldn’t use this spell in close combat like this unless she was positive that her opponent was weak minded enough for it to take, but it looked like Sarthis had recently drank skooma, and taking in a mind-altering substance made one very weak to illusion spell.

She cast it at him as her approached to attack her again and the spell hit him squarely in the chest. The man turned to run from her, terror alighting in his eyes, and Naya pounced, driving her dagger through his back into his heart.

Killing never got easier, she could feel the weight of the lives she had just taken weighing down on her chest. With a regretful sigh Naya went deeper into the Warehouse to investigate further.

She came into a room with a shelf full of moon sugar and skooma, as well as a note on the desk in the corner of the room which read:

_Sarthis,_

_Just got a shipment of Moon Sugar from Morrowind. We’re refining it now, and the skooma should be ready by the time you get the Cragslane Cavern. Bring the gold or don’t show up at all._

_Kilnyr._

Wonderful. It looked like there was a whole ring involved in this, and Naya was pretty sure that the Jarl would make her take care of it.

Raid finished, Naya left the building and made her way the Keep. If she had any luck, court would still be ongoing when she got there.

* * *

**Relthreyn XXIV**

If Delphine had the personality of a Dremora, then Maven had one of a Daedric Prince. Specifically, Namira. The woman’s personality was certainly repulsive enough for it. The only person who angered him off more upon first meeting was Nazeem, whose mere existence could drive a priest of Mara to murder.

Unpleasant personality or not, she lived up to her reputation of a woman of power, so he could not afford to anger her. At least not yet.

But enough of Maven. He had to go to the cistern before he left for Whiterun.

Relthreyn knew that there was to be a Thalmor presence in Whiterun but, he knew that it would take at least two months for more agents to arrive from the Summerset Isles, and that’s if weather was perfect and there were no hostilities from other countries. If he took into account the habitually murderous weather and the fact that absolutely everyone hated the Thalmor, they would probably arrive in Skyrim sometime near the end of Sun’s Height or the beginning of Last Seed.

If he left now, he would be in Whiterun by the 1st of Sun’s Height. Plenty of time to spare.

Things were going to get very interesting when those reinforcements arrived. Relthreyn knew that not a single person in the country would react well to increased Thalmor presence, which would lead to people acting out, which would then lead to more Thalmor. And with his luck, the situation with Alduin that he was currently avoiding would come to a head at the worst moment possible.

Of course, that was a problem for the Relthreyn of the future. He had preparations to make.

* * *

Naya came back from her skooma excursion just as he finished packing.

She entered slowly, with a contemplative bearing.

“What’s wrong.”

She looked up, surprised as if she just realized he was there.

“Oh, it’s nothing…”

“…Did everything go smoothly?”

“Yeah…Relthreyn, I think I’m going to try to become a Thane.”

That was not what he had been expecting to hear. At his look, Naya elaborated further.

“The Jarl mentioned it after I finished the warehouse. Besides, we could get out off this inn and into an actual house if I earn the title.”

Relthreyn certainly wasn’t going to dissuade her from the idea, it was a good one after all.

“It definitely won’t hurt.”

“Can we even afford a house?”

Well, they had about 14,000 septims between the two of them, with 1,000 set aside for an emergency/paying off bounties fund, so…

“We can if we both pay for it.” At Naya’s hesitant look – she had obviously done the math too – he continued. “Let’s talk about it when I get back?”

“Yes, we should.” She let out tired sigh and looked up at him. “Stay safe.”

“I will.”

* * *

Relthreyn cursed violently and ducked a stream of frost from the dragon attacking him, and then threw himself to the side to avoid the arrow form the Thalmor archer that was in on it as well.

It had been going so well, too.

His journey to Whiterun had been relatively drama free up until now, he had only been attacked by a couple of bandit groups who were easily dealt with. The weather was temperate by Skyrim standards, the wildlife avoided him, and he’d been able to find game and drink rather easily.

That is, up until now. Now was after he somehow managed to stumble into both a Thalmor unit and a Frost dragon. At the same time. To make matters worse, the dragon decided to start ignoring the Thalmor to attack him.

Luckily, there weren’t any Justiciars in the group, just sword wielders and archers. Scars aching slightly with his use of lightning magic, Relthreyn summoned a storm atronach and sent a bolt of chain lighting at the Thalmor and decided to focus the majority of his attention on the greater threat.

In retrospect, Relthreyn was happy with the fact that they had spent so much time at the College, he never would have been able to cast both of those spells without running out of magicka.

He had two minutes before his atronach dispelled, less if the Thalmor killed it. That meant he had to deal with the dragon in that timeframe.

The frost dragon wheeled around for another go, shooting a stream of icy breath in his direct, Relthreyn becoming Ethereal in response. Using the time he bought himself, he quickly downed a few bottles of magicka potion, replenishing his reserves. If he could get that dragon on the ground, he could take care of all of them at once.

To ground a dragon, he merely had to tear its wings, so he did just that, firing off a combination of ice spike and lightning bolt at the thin membrane keeping the dragon aloft.

The dragon plunged to the earth, now torn wings spread to slow its descent. An explosion of electricity followed by cries of pain signified that his atronach was dispelled. Digging into his reserves, Relthreyn once again became Ethereal and began going through the motions of Fire Storm. The effect wore off just as the dragon sent another flurry of lethally cold wind in his direction, the freezinf thu’um penetrating the warmth of his destruction spell. Reltheyn ignored the frost burns forming on his body – it wouldn’t kill him, not when he had this much fire magic in hand – and he released his spell.

The ensuing explosion of fire killed both the remaining Thalmor troop and the dragon, just as he was hoping for.

The battle-song arose in his spirit once more and the dragon – _Fovenin, Frost Wind Master_ _-_ soul rushed into him, invigorating and exhausting at the same time. Frost burns making themselves known, Relthreyn staggered to the side to sit upon the earth and take a breather. He grimaced and cast healing hands on himself, mending the worst of the frost burns. He’d been spoiled by Naya’s restoration magic, she could have healed it entirely. He missed her. Relthreyn hadn't realized how accustomed he had become to her presence, this was the first time that they had been separated for longer than a handful of days at a time. The College didn't count, he'd been too busy trying to not die for most of it.

Traveling without her made the whole process seem much more dull, with no one to talk to, to fight alongside, to explore what Skyrim had to offer with.

He couldn’t wait to get back to Riften.

* * *

“Heard any rumors lately?”

The innkeeper, Hulda, looked at him in surprise, before smiling.

“Well, well. I wasn’t expecting to see you back here so soon, especially after that business at the Embassy.”

“I wasn’t expecting to be here, but here I am. What’s been happening while I was gone?”

Innkeepers were the best source of local information, besides couriers, they knew practically everything that happened around town. Hulda also liked him given that he’d stayed at her inn for his entire tenure at Whiterun and had even done a couple of jobs for her.

And Hulda was a font of information, indeed. There had been increased Thalmor patrol sightings in the Whiterun hold, apparently. Combined with the mysterious meeting Jarl Balgruf had with a Stormcloak officer, the sentients in the city were slowy shifting from the tense neutrality there was before. The Greymanes and Battleborns had almost come to blows in the market of several occasions due to the changing sentiments, all in all it seemed that there was a growing sense of unease and disquiet about the city. A sort of calm before the storm.

It was food for thought. To Reltheryn, this Civil War business was more daunting than the whole Alduin thing. At least with the great dragon, he knew what he was in for, either kill Alduin or let Nirn be devoured.

But this war, this war was something that, he never thought he would have a stake in. In the beginning, when he was just a newcomer to this country, he’d had no personal stake in Skyrim’s future, and was largely disinterested in the rebellion against the Empire. But now, he had family in Winterhold, he had found a home in Whiterun though he had been forced to abandon it and was fast finding another home in Riften.

The Empire and the Stormcloaks were two factions that he didn’t necessarily agree with, but he knew fighting for the Empire was out of the question – they were at least nominally allied with the Thalmor and they almost had him executed – but the Stormcloaks weren’t so appealing either with their racist, xenophobic sensibilities. He hadn’t been lying to Ulfric when he’d said that he believed that he was the lesser of two evils, but that had only been because Ulfirc was in a position firmly against the Thalmor, a position that Relthreyn very much agreed with.

But all of that aside, he just didn’t know what to do.


	29. Dampend Spirits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relthreyn's on pest control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm impulsively posting this at midnight so I'm sorry for any and all grammatical errors.

**Relthreyn XXV**

Relthreyn retreated from the Bannered Mare and exited the main gates of Whiterun, travelling out of the sight of the guards before he slipped the enchanted ring he had commissioned form the Face Sculptor in Riften on. When he had heard of the woman’s talents, he had approached her and requested for something that would temporarily make him unrecognizable. The woman had made him pay out the nose for it, especially because he requested that she make it for him very quickly, but he had it, and that made this entire affair much easier. The ring itself did not change his appearance, it merely made him extremely forgettable. Whomever saw it with it on would not be able to recall his appearance but would recognize him upon another meeting if he still had the ring on. If he had the ring off, they would not know if it was him, unless they physically saw him don or remove the enchantment. As powerful as the enchantment was, it only worked for a handful of hours at a time before it had to recharge, so he used it sparingly.

Ring upon his finger, he reentered Whiterun and the Bannered Mare and quickly scanned the room before laying his eyes on a pale imperial who he knew to be Mallus Marcus. He made his way over to him and took the empty seat across form him. Irritated, the man looked up from his mug of mead.

“Can’t a man get a drink in peace?”

“Maven sent me.” With that statement, Mallus set down his alcohol and sat up straighter, a businesslike expression appearing on his face.

“I’m going to keep this short because we have a lot to do. Honningbrew’s owner, Sabjorn, is about to hold a tasting for Whiterun’s Captain of Guard and we’re going to poison the mead.”

He knew of Sabjorn. He’d heard the he was a complete ass – that seemed to be a symptom of owning a meadery - but that was beside the point. His meadery had quite the pest problem last he heard. Relthreyn was honestly surprised that he hadn’t been shut down because of it months ago, Jarl Balgruf had some surprisingly strict laws where food, drink and the contamination thereof were concerned. If the Captain of the Guard tasted contaminated mead, Sabjorn would probably be cooling his heels in the dungeons for about a week or so until the investigation was over with.

“You have the poison?”

“No, no. That’s the beauty of the whole plan. We’re going to get Sabjorn to give it to us. You used to live here, so I’m sure you know about the pest problem. Poison and mead don’t mix well, you know what I mean?”

So, he was to contaminate the mead with pesticide. “So, I’m going to offer him a helping hand?”

“Exactly. He’s going to give you the poison, but you’re also going to dump it in the brewing vat.”

“Clever.”

“Maven and I spent weeks planning this. All we need is someone like you to get in there and get it done. Now get going before Sabjorn grows a brain and gets someone else to do his dirty work.”

“How do I get the vats?”

“Both of the buildings are connected by a tunnel made by the pests infesting the meadery. There’s an entrance to it in the basement storehouse of the warehouse that used to be boarded over. I’ve already removed the boards so the meadery would get infected. That’s where you should start.”

“What about just going in through the brewery?”

“Sabjorn keeps that place locked up tight. If you can get through that way, go right ahead. Rember, Sabjorn will need a helping hand. Make it look good.”

Right. Thankfully, Relthreyn had never actually met Sabjorn or the Captain of the Whiterun Guard, so he didn’t have to worry too much about anonymity as far as those two were concerned.

* * *

He was happy Sabjorn was getting arrested, this place was absolutely disgusting. Without any exaggeration, the food he’d made in the middle of a dragur-infested crypt was cleanlier than this. The man himself had a personality that paired well with his infested establishment, and to top it off Sabjorn’s voice reminded him of Nazeem.

The plan itself really was clever, though. With the amount he had, he would use most of the pest poison to actually deal with the aforementioned pests, and the remnants would be enough to ruin the batch of mead for the Captain. However, the small amount he would have left over would not be potent enough to give the Captain anything more than a very mild case of food poisoning.

Relthreyn entered the basement of the meadery to see an exceptionally large skeever that immediately attacked him. He dispatched it with a quick ice spike to his throat before entering into the cavern that the creatures had created. He wished Naya was with him, if only to see her reaction to the over sized rodents. Even thinking about her probable reaction made him chuckle a bit, she hated the things.

He quickly fell into a rhythm of killing the pests with either magic or Dawnbreaker – he could not believe he was using a legendary blade to kill _frostbite spiders and skeevers_ of all things. It was a rather boring, repetitive affair - at least until he came upon the lunatic in the tunnels.

Said crazed mage immediately shot a lightning bolt at Relthreyn, which he diverted with a lesser ward the broke upon impact.

Seriously, what in Oblivion was wrong with this place. He was expecting a _tunnel_ not a _cave system_ complete with a crazed mage. Honestly, Sanbjorn deserved to be arrested if he allowed this to spawn under his nose.

Insane though he was, the mage was rather powerful and rather intelligent, continuously taking potshots at Relthreyn to keep him on the defensive. Deciding to end this quickly rather then dragging it out Relthreyn opted to Slow Time, using the effect to dodge around the mages spells, and plant Dawnbreraker firmly between his ribs to pierce his heart.

The whole thing was over remarkably quickly, leaving Reltreyn feeling strangely… disappointed. It had just been so _easy._ He wanted it to be a challenge. Like Goldenglow had been.

It seemed that Naya had the right of it. The opportunity to test his skills was a large part of what calmed his draconic nature. That fight with the Thalmor Patrol and Fovenin had given him more satisfaction than this. Hopefully, whatever the next mission was would be more satisfying.

The other odd thing he’d noticed was that his more reptilian tendencies were more roused when he was with Naya. This fight, he hadn’t felt the urge to draw it out as much as he usually did, and the only difference he could detect was the lack of his companion.

He could figure it out later. Right now, he had some mead to go contaminate.

The contamination itself was rather easy, he just had to dump the rest of the poison into the vat. After that was over with he exited the brewery through the front door, unlocking it with the key on the ring on the wall next to the exit.

He quickly made his way over to the Meadery proper and strode inside to see Sabjorn facing the captain of the guard. The nord looked rather infuriated with his interruption, and opened his mouth, presumably to tell him to leave his establishment before the Captain interrupted him.

“You look like you could use a drink, stranger.” Well, between his blood-spattered cloths and wild appearance, he would appear that way. “Sabjorn, serve this man some mead as well.”

Sabjorn shot Relthreyn an extremely dirty look. “Of course, Captain.”

As Sabjorn handed him a cup of mead he hissed, “You are late, I couldn’t stall him any longer. Is the job done?” At Reltheyn’s nod, the man continued. “Well, at least you’re good for something.”

Relthreyn accepted the mead from the seething man and flashed him a polite smile along with a thanks and settled back to enjoy the show. He set the mead on the counter, no way on Oblivion was he drinking that. It seemed that the Captain mirrored his sentiments, spitting the mead back into the tankard as soon as it touched his tongue. Relthreyn just sat back and dozed lightly against the counter – pest extermination was tiring business – as Sabjorn was arrested and Mallus was temporarily promoted.

The guard was probably going to find evidence of tampering, it was fairly easy to identify pest poison especially with the help of a mage, but Sabjorn would definitely be charged for whatever in oblivion was going on with those tunnels and that crazy mage. Of course, that’s probably what Maven as counting on.

“I don’t think that could have gone any better.”

“I need to take a look at Sabjorn’s books.”

“So, Maven wants to hunt down Sabjorn’s private partner, huh? You’re welcome to take a look around Sabjorn’s office. He keeps most of his papers stashed in his desk. Here, this should help.” Mallus handed over a key. With a thanks, Relthreyn approached the office area, quickly seeking out a promissory note that looked informative. He quickly scanned the letter, which he saw had a familiar marking at the top of it, identical to the one from Goldenglow. Informative indeed.

HE turned to leave, before hesitating, and turning to the door beside the nightstand. Sabjorn _had_ promised him payment, and since he couldn’t do that now, he would help himself. He quickly broke into the room, and took 1000 septims, what he would have payed himself for that, and grabbed that interesting looking decanter of the shelf - he really should get along to selling those trinkets he was picking up – before leaving to the Bannered Mare to settle his affairs with the Hulda before – thankfully- making his way back to Riften. Well, a certain person in Riften.

* * *

“I trust you have good news for me.”

“Job’s finished. Here’s the information you requested.”

He handed over the note, and watched as Maven scanned it, an irritated expression appearing on her face. “This doesn’t tell me much. The only thing to identify Sabjorn’s partner is this odd little symbol.”

“Yes. I’ve seen that symbol before.”

“Well, whomever this mysterious marking represents, they’ll regret starting a war with me. You should bring this information to the Thieves Guild immediately. There’s also the matter of your payment. I believer you’ll find this more than adequate for your services.”

She gestured for him to grab an enchanted elven bow that was propped up against the wall of the room. She was seriously going to pay him with a _bow_ that he could make himself? Namira, indeed.

Quickly exiting the room before he said or did something that he would regret, Reltheryn left the inn and made for the Guild entrance by the Keep. Not able to locate Brynjolf in the Cistern, Relthreyn quickly grabbed the attention of an imperial guild mate. As the man tuned to face him, Relthreyn was startled to see the familiar face.

“Etienne. I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again.”

By the grateful expression on his face, the man obviously recognized him.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again, either. Thank you for your help at the Embassy. I really thought that I was going to die there.”

Relthreyn could see that the man had a slight tremble in his hands. Damaged hands were a death sentence to a thief.

“Are your hands alright?”

The man looked down at them before laughing slightly.

“Ah, that. There aren’t any good healer around here, so they didn’t mend well. Its fine, I’ve been helping out Vekel lately, there’s still some use for me yet.”

Taking a moment to observe the man who Relthreyn could see was much more effected by his injury than he was acting like, he decided to offer him some tentative help.

“I know someone who could take a look at those for you.”

Etienne froze for a second, hope briefly arising on his face.

“You do?”

“I do. She’s College trained.”

The imperial laughed again, more genuine this time.

“It seems I’ll owe you twice over, friend.”

“Well, could you tell me were Brynjolf is? I need to report to him.”

“Ah yes, I’d heard about your job. He’s in the training room.”

Information received, Relthreyn bid Etienne farewell before striding off to find Brynjolf. He quickly located the man, he was leaning against the wall, observing the practicing thieves. Brynjolf turned his head towards Reltheryn at his approach.

“Word on the street is that poor Sabjorn has found himself in Whiterun’s prison How unfortunate for him.”

“Yet very fortunate for Maven.”

A slight smile appeared on the nord’s face. “Exactly! Now you’re beginning to see how our little system works.” Quickly sobering he continued. “Maven sent word that you found something while you were out there. Something important to the Guild?”

“the same symbol from Goldenglow was involved.”

“This is beyond mere coincidence. First Aringoth, and now Sabjorn. Someone’s trying to take us down by driving a wedge between Maven and the Guild.”

“Anything we can do about it?”

“Mercer thinks there’s a way to identify this new thorn in our side. He’s out of Riften right now, but he’ll want to meet with you immediately after he gets back.”

“When will he be back?”

“Tomorrow. Midday.”

Right. He’d worry about that tomorrow. He turned to take his leave when Brynjolf’s now casual voice came to his ears.

“I saw that lass of yours in the inn about half an hour ago.”

Slightly embarrassed, Relthreyn turned back and gave a part annoyed, part thankful look to the smirking Nord. Wonderful. If Brynjolf knew, then the entire Guild knew and he would receive no end of smart remarks over his love life. Resigning himself to much teasing in his near future, he responded.

“Thank you, Brynjolf.”

Business concluded, he climbed out of the cistern to – _finally_ – go find Naya.

* * *

Reltheryn entered the room he was sharing with Naya, eyes quickly falling on the woman herself.

“Naya!”

She startled at his call, whirling to face the door, a smile appearing on her face at the sight of him. Unexpectedly, she tackled him with a hug. He staggered back at the unexpected weight, before steadying himself and tightening his grip around her, pulling her tighter against him. It seemed that she missed him as much as he missed her.

“Relthreyn, I did it! I’m a Thane!” At her exclamation, he set her down, though he still had his arms around her waist, and she still had hers on his triceps. “We can get a house!”

Reltheyn smiled back at her, invigorated by her obvious excitement. He had not realized how much she had yearned for a place to call her own until now.

“We can. Let’s do it now.” She faltered a little at his words.

“You just got back, you must want to rest…” Relthreyn shook his head, wanting to be out of the inn as soon as possible. 

“Its still early in the day. If we buy and furnish it now, we could probably move in tomorrow.” Anticipating her protest, he continued. “Don’t worry about money, I had a good payout this job.”

“If you’re sure…”

“I’m positive. Let us go buy a house.”

Naya perked up again at the word, and practically dragged him out of the inn.

Their business was quickly concluded by the Steward, Naya’s Thane status giving them a discount on the house, making it actually affordable, especially considering the thousand septims he had… liberated… from Sanbjorn.

He had a home, a reliable, if illegal, source on income, and the woman he loved even if he hadn’t gotten around to admitting it to her yet. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much in his life.

For the first time since his mother’s death, Relthreyn was truly content.


	30. Supply and Demand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naya contemplates the past and takes care of some Skooma dealers.

**Naya XXV**

Naya cut off the magic flowing into the fisherman sitting beside her, his wounds from the accident he had at the docks now completely healed.

“There. All done.”

Rejuvenated, the man stood and thanked her before paying her the ten septims she had charged him. She would keep eight of those, and the other two would go to Elgrim and Hafjorg. She had mentioned that she was a College-trained restoration mage to a customer, and since then, people had begun to come to the shop to seek her services. It seemed that Restoration was a much-needed craft in Riften, with the only others being the oft-busy priests in the Temple of Mara.

Naya took a glance out of the door of the shop, seeing the sun start to sink below the horizon. Her shift was over. She made her way to the back of the shop to grab her things and bid her employers farewell and began the walk back to the Dryside with Ingun as she did every night. It was a twenty-minute journey, and being in the under levels of the city alone at night was stupid. Actually, it was stupid at all times, unless you were with the Thieves Guild. Which she was not.

“You’ve been quiet lately. Quieter, at least.” Naya shrugged, not wanting to speak at the moment. Ingun continued, her voice contemplative. “It’s because he’s on a mission, isn’t it?”

Of course, Ingun knew that. And she was right. After Yaevis was murdered, Naya quickly learned that the only way she could protect herself was through silence. Those bandits – the Nord, the Argonian, Sindrion, all of them – were sadists. If she didn’t make a sound, didn’t react, then she was boring, and her captives would lose interest in her, at least for a time. She found that if she spoke, she would be hurt and that if she stayed mute, then she would remain safe. But eventually, her silence had become as much as a curse as it was a blessing because after remaining silent for so long, she found that she could not speak, no matter how hard she tried. She had tried to respond to her Altmer friend only once. When she opened her mouth to speak, she had felt terrified, and her voice froze in her throat. After she realized that she just _couldn’t_ , her voice became another thing she couldn’t control.

After everything, when she had begun traveling with Reltheyn, she intellectually knew that he would not hurt her. He would not have gone through all the trouble of killing the bandits and nursing her back to some semblance of health if he intended to do so. But in those early days, she was always very aware of the fact that, if he so chose, he could overpower her with ease, and there wasn’t much she could do about it. She and been dependent on him for everything, in the beginning, physically, mentally, and emotionally. Even if she were physically able to travel without him, she wouldn’t have because he was the only person that she even vaguely trusted to treat her like an actual person, despite how she felt about the whole situation.

She had been incredibly vulnerable around him, and it terrified her. That feeling slowly ebbed as she got to know him better, but it wasn’t until that day they had found the Beacon that it had clicked for her.

Amid the storm, in that shallow hollow within the mountain, she truly _felt_ safe for the first time in months. Everything had been loud and chaotic, and if they didn’t find real shelter, they would most likely die, but strangely enough, she wasn’t terrified. She had been fearful - she _was_ in possession of a functioning self-preservation instinct – but not that pure bone-deep terror that had been her constant companion for those dismal weeks.

When she felt that security, she had mustered up the courage to push past that instinctive fear she felt and speak. After the Forsworn, when she had fought alongside him instead of cowering behind him for the first time, she had begun to feel more…powerful. Like she had started to reclaim the autonomy she had lost with her transportation into this new home of hers. 

She was pulled from her remembrance by Ingun’s voice. “How did you two meet, anyway?”

Naya stopped walking. She liked Ingun, even thought of her as a friend, but no way in hell was she going to talk about that with her. She could barely speak to Relthreyn about it.

She looked up to meet the other woman's slightly concerned gaze, and shook her head once, in a quick, jerky movement.

They continued the rest of the walk in silence.

* * *

Naya entered the inn, and upon spotting Talon-Jei quickly made her way up the stairs to avoid the Argonian. She knew that it was wrong of her to avoid him, but being around him made her think of things that she’d rather forget. Every time she looked at him or even Madesi, who resembled that Argonian bandit much less, she could not help but be reminded of… Well. She was not going to think about the past right now. She’d already done enough of that for tonight.

She made her way into the room, automatically searching for Relthreyn before she remembered that he was in Whiterun. A pang of loneliness rose within her as she crossed the room to begin to prepare for bed.

She already missed him, and he’d been gone for only a day. She settled into the cold bed and began to try to sleep. Reltheyn would be back in a week, well a week and a half if she took into account his ability to either find trouble or _make_ trouble, and she wanted to be Thane by then. She wanted them to have a house, a real tangible place that was _hers_ \- _theirs_ \- and no one else’s.

Tomorrow she would set out to Cragslane Cavern.

* * *

She was in the dark entrance to the Cavern, a hunting bow clenched in her hand. She was procured one from a rather unfortunate now ex-bandit on the way here. Naya was perfectly capable of bowhunting; she had lived with a Bosmer for over half a year, after all. Skyrim was a harsh land, and Yaevis an even more stringent taskmaster when it came to archery, so she had learned quickly. This was the first time her quarry was a sentient being instead of a merely sapient one.

She drew back the bowstring, and an arrow flew into the sentry’s throat. Unfortunately, since this was her trial to become Thane, she had to do this alone, and not with a mercenary as she had initially intended. It was of no matter, as long as she was cautious and didn’t go charging out like an idiot, she could do it.

Silently, she melted into the shadows, the darkness welcoming her as it always did.

* * *

Clearing out the cave was easier than she thought it would be. Not that it was easy by any stretch of the imagination, just not as difficult as she thought it would be. She mostly kept to the shadows, taking out the dealers with her bow. The hard part was staying hidden if one of them came across a corpse. She had to keep out of sight while also maneuvering herself into an ideal position for a lethal shot. Naya was not Relthreyn, she couldn’t walk in like she owned the place, and simply kill everything with brute force, she had to take the more cautious approach. The whole affair meant a lot of hiding and even more backtracking as she avoided detection.

The room with those poor trapped wolves was what pissed her off, though. She decided to express her displease by hitting the more heavily armored dealers with pacifying spells and casting a courage spell on the wolves before releasing them with an arrow to the terrible lock they had on the cage. Pacifying spells were great in that they prevented people from being aggressive, so when attacked under such influence, you could defend yourself – not many illusions can overcome survival instinct – but you can’t muster up the will to attack. The wolves had run out of the cavern once the spells wore off, though, obviously recognizing that they would be killed if they remained. Fortunately, the chaos they had left in their wake had made it much easier to pick off the remaining Ring operators with the help of Unseen, which was less of an invisibility spell and more of a chameleon effect.

Task finished, Naya took the distinctive ring off of the finger of the Leader as proof of her deeds and started the long trek back to Riften.

* * *

Three days until Relthreyn would (hopefully) be back. At least she always knew that he was alive due to the pulsing magic in those necklaces he had created for the both of them, not that it did much to dampen the loneliness she as feeling.

Upside, she was officially a Thane, so she would have good news to share with him when he got back.

Once again, she entered to Bee and Barb to see Talon-Jei buy at work. Naya almost made to avoid him still but stopped herself. She would never get any better if she kept running from her past. Besides, she had to prove to herself that she could do these things without Relthreyn being around.

She slowly made her way to the Argonian, beginning to hear his voice as she drew near.

He even sounded similar. As he finished attending to his other patrons, he turned to her. “Welcome back, milady, is there something I can assist you with?”

She pushed through her fear and spoke, her voice coming out in a whisper.

“Do you have any soups today?”

“Ah, yes, we have a special recipe from Morrowind today if it is to your liking.” At Naya’s nod, he took a closer look at her, obviously sensing her discomfort. “I could have it delivered to your room if you would like?”

“Yes, thank you.” With that, she paid him and quickly retreated to her and Rlethreyn’s room.

That was enough for the day.

* * *

Relthreyn was back, and they had bought Honeyside. A happy smile was on her lips, and she could see it on his as well. Now they were wandering around the city, just enjoying being together again. It was Naya who broke their easy silence.

“We should celebrate.”

Relthreyn raised a brow. “We should?”

She nodded. “Yes, we should.” Suddenly feeling rather self-conscious, she shyly offered, “I found a really nice place outside of the gates while I was gathering ingredients, maybe we could have a celebratory picnic later?”

She was aware that what she had proposed sounded like a date, but it wasn’t like anything they hadn’t done before while they were traveling between cities. Relthreyn found them scenic places all the time; it was only right that she return the favor.

Unexpectedly, Relthreyn’s smile had settled into something softer. “I’d like that.”

Slightly embarrassed, Naya let their conversation die down into a companionable silence. Unrequited feelings or not, she was happy, and nothing could ruin that for her right now.


	31. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naya heals Etienne, Mercer gives Relthreyn a mission

**Naya XXVI**

As they approached the glade outside of the city, Naya began to feel the now-familiar tide of anxiety rising. What if they got attacked by something? What if the food wasn’t good? What if it they didn’t have anything to talk about?

Naya paused in her train of thought, chagrined. She was acting like a pre-teen going on their first date.

It wasn’t even a date it was a - a celebratory outing between friends. Oh, who was she kidding, she just wanted to spend time with him. She had missed the time with Relthreyn in those beautiful places he had found, and she did not want it to end even though they weren’t travelling.

Naya resolutely pushed aside her anxiety. She would enjoy this moment.

They laid out their meal in the scenic glade at settled by each other, a companionable silence settling over them as they began to eat. There was nothing awkward about it, it was just like the many other meals that they had shared with each other in the wilds of Skyrim. The comforting familiarity made Naya relax, her worries easing as the meal progressed.

“How _did_ you become Thane?”

“Hm?”  
  


“You told me about the Skooma ring?”

Right, she hadn’t really told him about that, had she. “Oh, that. Well, it turns out that there was a…” As she launched into the story, she began to grow more animated, throwing her whole body into the narration. Contrary to her habitual silence, Naya knew how to weave a good story. The art of crafting a compelling narrative, of capturing an audience’s attention with her words and actions . . . it had been something of a family tradition. After everything that had happened, she had not felt up to continuing it. At least not until now. 

“So you had fun, then.”

She looked over at Relthreyn who had a slight smile on his face as he broke the comfortable silence that had fallen after she finished speaking. He was right, though. She hadn’t enjoyed the killing aspect, but the challenge of it was enjoyable in its own way.

“Yes, I had fun.” Naya leaned back onto her elbows and looked up at the mellow blue of the sky. “What about you? Anything exciting about your trip.”

“Nothing really… actually one of my guildmates has an old injury he needs a healer for. I told him I’d mention it to you, if you want to...?

Naya was never one to turn away someone who needed her help. “Sure, I’ll look at it when we’re done here.” She turned onto her side to face the now supine dunmer. “But seriously, how was Whiterun?”

“Disappointing. The only exciting thing was the lunatic I found in the pest tunnels under the Meadery.” There were at least two different absurdities in that sentence but at this point she couldn’t even be surprised by any of them. It wasn’t like that was the weirdest thing that had happened to him. It wasn’t even the weirdest thing to happen to her. But she still had to ask... “Lunatic in the pest tunnels?”

She must have had a particularly perturbed expression, because Relthreyn huffed out a laugh when he saw her face. This time it was his turn to tell the story, and she relaxed into the earth, his words providing a soundtrack to the soothing atmosphere of the morning.

* * *

Naya followed a rather cheerful Reltheryn through the graveyard with the statue of Talos on the side of it. He approached the mausoleum in the middle of the yard, and pressed a button in the stone coffin inside of it. It opened slowly with a reluctant, grinding noise. This had to be the secret entrance that everyone pretended they didn’t know about.

“Are you sure I can be here? I’m not affiliated with the Guild.”

“Don’t worry, I cleared it with Brynjolf.”

Brynjolf? Oh, yes. The red-haired Nord from the marketplace. She’d seen him around town every once in a while. Naya knew that he was a prominent part of the Guild, but she hadn’t known that he was so high up until now.

The cistern was less dank than she though it would be. It was humid, but no where near as bad as where she was from and the air was surprisingly clean. The entire room was cleaner than she’d expected. There had to be some form of magic or something to keep everything sanitary.

Relthreyn raised his voice slightly and hailed a rather haggard looking imperial man over to them. “Etienne, this is the healer I spoke to you about yesterday. Naya, this is Etienne.”

With a polite smile, Naya shook his hand in a greeting. She could see why he needed help, the bones in his hands felt wrong, and she detected a slight tremor in the appendages as well.

“Mercer is looking for you. Good luck, this is the angriest I’ve ever seen him.” Reltheryn’s cheerful mood dimmed slightly at Etienne’s words.

“Wonderful.” Naya had never met Mercer, but he must be quite the piece of work if his bad mood made the usually bold man want to avoid him. Reltheryn placed a hand on her arm, drawing her attention. “I’ll be back after I talk to him.”

He left them, hand lingering on her arm for a moment longer. Naya stared after him for a second before turning back to Etienne, slightly nervous. She sucked in a deep breath and let the cool mindset of a healer settle over her. She was here to help this man, not to be overcome by her insecurities.

“Is there a place where we can sit?”

“Yes, over here.” Etienne started walking over to a wooden table against the cistern wall. He was holding himself a little stiffly, looking more awkward than someone who was right in the middle of their own home, for lack of a better word, should be. He was as nervous as she was, and she felt her anxieties ease a little at the knowledge. He politely pulled out a chair for her and sat beside her.

“May I see your hands?”

He silently placed his hands on the table between them. She reached out, the golden glow of restoration appearing, and cast a diagnostic spell at his hands. She held the spell for about a moment, concentrating on the information that she was gaining. There was no problem with his hands other than the corrosive magic that had sunk into his bones that was slowly degrading them. It was kind of like arthritis, if the condition had been beefed up by Peyrite or something.

“Your hands are cursed.” Naya looked up at his now pale face “Don’t worry, I can break it. Its going to hurt, though.”

Etienne didn’t hesitate. “Do it.”

Alright. She was going to do this one hand at a time. She took his right hand, and slowly sunk her magic into it, attacking the curse and burning it away under the heat of her magic. She felt Etienne stiffen in pan, but kept pushing until the curse was eradicated from his hand. “You ready for the next one?”

Etienne was pale, but resolute, giving her his other hand. She repeated the process as quickly as she was able, and then cast healing hands on him to ease the aftereffect as much as she could. He was looking down at his hands n wonder, gratitude appearing on his face as she began to go over what he would need to do to complete his recovery.

" _Thank you._ "She could feel the full force of his gratitude in those simple words. It was things like this that proved that she’d made the right decision to be a healer. There was silence for a time as Etienne looked over his uncursed appendages, before he broke it with a thoughtful question.

“Why'd you help me?”

“I’m not one to turn away people who need healing.”

A glint appeared in the man’s eyes. She could see why he was a thief. “Oh? Would you be interested in gold for your healing services?”

And that was how Naya became affiliated with the Thieves Guild.

* * *

**Relthreyn XXVI**

Etienne was right, Mercer was even angrier than normal. Reltehryn was in a very good mood right now, and he wouldn’t let Mercer’s piss-poor excuse for a personality could bring him down. He listened to Mercers spiel about his mission – he was to go to Solitude (fantastic, the one place he didn’t want to go) and get information from an argonian – but really started to pay attention at the last thing Mercer said.

“Remember, Vittora Vici’s wedding is taking place soon, so security will be tight. Don’t get caught.”

The Emperor’s cousin? If that had been common knowledge, than all of the country would know about it. Looks like the Guild’s information network was better than he thought it was, even if the organization was still in decline. Conversation over with, Mercer returned to glowering at his other subordinates or whatever he did in his spare time, obviously dismissing Relthreyn.

Relthreyn immediately made his way to Naya, who was conversing with Eteinne. Actually talking too, not just nodding or shaking her head like she normally did. He quashed the jealousy beginning to form in his chest. It was good that they got along well, she really did need more people besides himself and lately, Ingun. 

“Naya.” She turned towards him at his words, abandoning her conversation with Etienne. “I have to go to Solitude.” Her face fell at his words, previous cheer dissipating into somberness.

“So soon? You just got back.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” She stood up. “I’m going to help you pack.” She bade a goodbye to Etienne who merely smiled and waved farewell in return, and the duo left the cistern.

* * *

This time, he left under the cover of the night. He decided to spend the remainder of the day in Honeyside with Naya before he left, he could make up for lost time if he traveled faster than normal. He cared about spending time with her a fair bit more than he cared about his mission, and his delay wouldn’t change anything about the mission. There was also the added benefit of pissing off Mercer, who wanted him to leave the second their conversation was finished. He had practical reasons for it too. If he traveled by night and rested during the day than he would be harder to identify and since he was going to Solitude, he definitely wanted anonymity on his side.

His trip to the city was remarkably drama-free, no hostile dragons, he only had to kill two spriggans and was only attacked by one bandit group. The ease of his journey conversely made him more stressed out about the entire mission. Things went so well that he couldn’t help but feel that something as going to go horrifically wrong in Solitude.

As he approached the towering stone fortress of a city, disguise donned and a harmless persona firmly in place, the feeling of impending disaster grew stronger.


	32. Scoundrel's Folly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relthreyn goes to Solitude. A wedding is had.

**Relthreyn XXVII**

He opted not to wear his guild armor for this mission so that he could look the part of a wedding guest. That ring from the Face Sculptor was worth every septim he had to shell out for it because he would be having a much more difficult time if he was here looking like himself. He was dressed in nice clothes that the average worker would be able to afford – he wanted to blend into the wedding crowd, not stand out.

It was early afternoon, and the wedding was supposed to take place at noon the next day. He would stay the night and leave the next day with the crowd.

He entered the city, nodding at the guards as he passed through the gate. As he meandered through the large town to find Gulum-Ei, he spotted a few Thalmor troops around. He wasn’t surprised. A high profile event like this one would definitely attract a Thalmor presence.

He eventually found the argonian in one of the inns. He was in a dimly lit corner, snacking on some sweet-smelling bread. Gulum-Ei looked up as he approached.

“So, what do we have here? Hmmm, let me guess. By your scent, I’d say you were from the Guild.”

By his scent? Relthreyn knew that argonians had a sense of smell that was second to none, but that was ridiculous. He’d been on the road for a week.

“But that can’t be true because I told Mercer that I wouldn’t deal with them anymore.”

“I’m here about Goldenglow Estate.”

“I don’t deal in land or property. Now, if you’re looking for goods, you’ve come to the right person.”

Unamused, Relthreyn looked the argonian in the eyes and simply said, “Gajul-Lei.”

“Oh wait…Did you say Goldenglow Estate? My apologies. I’m sorry to say I know very little about that…bee farm, was it?”

The argonian was lying through his teeth. Unforrtuenly, Relthreyn knew that he was nowhere near good enough a speechcraft to talk the other man into giving him the information – that was more of Brynjolf’s sort of thing. Gulum-Ei wasn’t the type to respond to death threats unless he proved that he would go through with it, regardless of the argonian’s connections or information, so he decided to cut straight to bribery.

“What’ll it take you to identify the buyer.”

“Well, now that you mention it, there has been something I’ve been trying to get my hands on. I have a buyer looking for a case of Firebrand wine. There just so happens to be a single case in the Blue Palace. Bring it to me, and we’ll talk about Goldenglow Estate.”

* * *

Any other time of year, stealing an unwieldy case of wine from the Blue Palace would be damn near impossible, but it looked like the odds were in his favor for once. There was kitchen staff in and out of the palace as they prepared for the wedding, so all he had to do was don servants garb and switched the Firebrand into one of the wine cases that would be used for the wedding, and he would be able to walk out of the palace with no one being the wiser.

He entered into the palace and quickly found his way into the thankfully deserted servants quarters and stole a uniform that was somewhat in his size. Rapidly changing into it, he made his way to the kitchen at a fast clip, navigating the halls with confidence, even though he had never been here before in his life. Fortunately, he had seen the kitchen when he walked into the building, so it wasn’t exactly difficult to find. He quickly located a busy woman who was cutting up vegetables at a truly impressive rate.

“We’re short a case of wine.”

The woman didn’t even look up from her work. “The surplus was moved back to the cellar.”

Thanking her, Relthreyn made his way to the lowest level of the palace, his disguise serving him well as the guards didn’t even give him a passing glance. He passed by the Firebrand on the way down, noting the size and color of the case the wine was resting in.

Relthreyn cast a quick mage light as he descended the steps – it wasn’t odd for a servant to know a spell or two, and his disguise was that of a Breton – and he quickly located an appropriate case of wine that bore a passing similarity to the Firebrand.

Now for the hard part, switching them out without anyone noticing.

Thinking fast, Relthreyn moved his selected case onto the table in the corner of the dark room and made his way back upstairs to move the Firebrand into the cellar. If anyone asked, he would just claim that one of the nobles had asked him to move it to the cellar for safekeeping.

Thankfully, no one did ask, and he moved the case without incident. Relthreyn swapped out the wine bottles, the Firebrand into the normal wine case, and the normal wine into the Firebrand case, and quickly left the cellar with the stolen merchandise in his arms.

Now to go back to Gulum-Ei.

* * *

Gulum-Ei was not very forthcoming, but he was also terrible at realizing when he was being followed, which was an excellent thing for Relthreyn. The argonian had just disappeared into the East Empire warehouse – he remembered Delvin mentioning that he wanted to get his hands on their map, he’d make sure to nick it while he was here- and Relthreyn quickly slipped in after him.

The warehouse was massive, heavily guarded, and wreathed in shadows that were only held at bay by flickering torchlight. And to top it all of there was a ‘Danger’ shadow mark by the entrance.

This was not going to be easy.

Relthreyn crept after the argonian, going up onto the storage shelves to avoid one of the guards. He stuck close to the crates, peering between then occasionally to keep an eye on his target. He reached the edge of the shelf, and hurriedly pressed himself into the shadows as the argonian passed beneath him.

Waiting for a few counts so that the guard had his back to him, Relthreyn carefully lowered himself to the ground and resumed following Gulum-Ei periodically ducking behind crates to avoid detection.

Then he tripped over something by the boats.

Relthreyn pressed himself under the bow of the moored ship as guard unsheathed her weapon, obviously sensing that something was amiss. She passed by his hiding place, eyes focused intently on where the sound had come from while he somehow got himself to the other side of the ship and under a platform without being detected.

That had been too close for comfort. Stealth was more Naya’s thing than his. Provided she had enough practice, Naya would probably make a better thief than him – why was he the one doing this?

Oh, yeah. She had a fully functional moral compass, unlike him. He continued after Gulum-Ei, easily avoiding the next guard.

It wasn’t that he didn’t recognize the rules and regulations of society; it was that they never really connected with him. They just hadn’t clicked for him like they had most of the other people he met.

Honestly, his mother had been a saint, considering what he had put her through when he was younger. He had been a hellion when he was an adolescent. From when he’d turned 40 up until he had hit 60, he had been very violent and very possessive, almost feral. Draconic. His mother hadn’t known what to make of it. Though, Relthreyn thought that she had figured _something_ out about what he was, because after the first _very_ trying year, she left him in the care of one of their few allies for about a week, and when she came back, things changed. She had begun to move with the changes in his behavior instead of pushing against it. She had let him hoard things, fight people -provided that it didn't get out of hand – and she had been much less focused on making him learn the rules and much more focused on making sure that he would at least not be a terrible person. Without her, he probably would have ended up as some Daedra-enthralled maniac focused on world domination or something equally as ridiculous.

In retrospect, he now knew that was his Dovahsil making itself known. It wasn’t exactly a hard leap to connect the aggressiveness, possessiveness, and hoarding, along with his other abnormal behavioral tendencies to dragons.

Wait a second, was Gulum-Ei going into the water? Oblivion take him, Relthreyn hated getting wet.

Reluctantly, Relthreyn followed the man into the shallow water and the newly revealed grotto. Upon entry, He immediately saw mercenaries. He stopped, allowing his quarry to go on ahead of him.

He could be subtle about this and sneak his way past, or he could simply bulldoze his way through. He should shoot for stealth. This was a thieves guild mission, and he was supposed to act accordingly, and it wasn’t like the mercenaries looked all that alert.

Relthreyn took a few more moments to study the paid thugs.

Screw subtle.

* * *

He was in pain, sopping wet, covered in spider webs, and very irritated when he finally caught up to Gulum-Ei.

He had been thrown against what he thought was going to be a wall while he was fighting, but it turned out to be a frostbite spider nest. A nest that Relthreyn had promptly set on fire. Then he had set the mercenary on fire as well, before putting the man out of his misery with a well-placed bound sword to the heart. After that, one of the now ex-mercenaries colleagues had gotten the bright idea to tackle him into that water by the walkway. Homicidal water wrestling was not something he ever wanted to repeat.

And now these two goons were guarding Gulum-Ei. Upon seeing the two steel plate covered thugs barrel towards him, Relthreyn decided that he really missed his guild armor.

Thankfully, he was more agile than either of them at the moment, so he used that to his advantage by keeping his distance and fending them off with ice spells. He could deal with them both; he just had to get away from Gulum-Ei – he did not want to kill the man by accident. First, to deal with the swords. Shouting **“ZUN”** to disarm them, he began to charge a destruction spell in both of his hands.

By some stroke of luck, their weapons landed in the pool of water a few feet from him. His foes only a few feet away from him, Relthreyn discharged the spell in his hands, the proximity making for maximum effectiveness. The arcs of lightning danced across his foes, electrifying their armor and killing them instantly.

He loved Chain Lightning.

Foes vanquished, Relthreyn zeroed in on the now very nervous argonian, intent on getting answers.

* * *

Relthreyn was now sneaking out of the warehouse, his conversation with Gulum-Ei proving to be very informative. Even better, he had found a very lovely dagger on the body on one of steel plate goons – a dual enchanted ebony dagger. It seemed to have a drain vitality enhancement along with a lightning damage one. Perfect for Naya. He’d also found a well-made knapsack to replace his currently waterlogged one, along with at least five hundred septims and a change of clothes.

As he crept out of the building, he remembered Delvin’s words about wanting something from this very warehouse. Now, if he was a Warden, where would he keep his valuables…

* * *

East Empire Map sitting in his newly acquired knapsack, a blessedly dry Relthreyn settled into his seat to enjoy the wedding ceremony.

He was rather happy with Vittoria’s wedding simply because it would ease tensions ever so slightly between the Stormcloaks and Imperials. Vittoria was the emperor’s cousin, and her soon to be husband was of very Nordic persuasion. With any luck, this could make the situation of the country simmer down at least a little. He was less happy about the Thalmor troops attending as well, but there was vey little he could do about that. As long as the mages stayed away from him, they wouldn’t sense his disguise and he wouldn’t have a problem.

Relthreyn leaned back into his seat, eyes absentmindedly scanning the stone walls of Solitude, lingering slightly on the unstable looking gargoyle statue, before returning to the happy couple.

All considered, it looked like his feeling of impending doom from earlier was a false signal. Everything had gone relatively smoothly, he got to fight something (which was always a bonus), and he had found a very nice gift for Naya. Maybe his luck was taking a turn for the better.

As if to mock him, an arrow flew from the ramparts and buried itself firmly in Vittoria’s throat.

.


	33. Flights and Fights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relthreyn leaves Solitude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a filler chapter, sorry.

**Relthreyn XXVIII**

Relthreyn automatically followed the trajectory of the arrow and detected the tell-tale waver of space that signified an illusion spell. The use of the spell combined with the fact that the assassination was done in broad daylight in the middle of Vittoria’s speech told him that this had to be the work of the Dark Brotherhood.

They had been growing in infamy in the past couple of months, shortly after he and Naya had left Winterhold, in fact, but he had not been expecting something so brazen so soon.

Pandemonium broke loose, many of guests screaming or shouting in shock or for justice. Relthreyn made to leave the area in the chaos but stopped as he saw guards and Thalmor troops boxing in the area to keep everyone in a single place.

He heard a Justicar shout an order in a magically amplified voice for everyone to stay here for questioning. The guards started to usher the people present into smaller groups as others went to retrieve Vittoria’s body.

Relthreyn was (thankfully) in the small group closest to the archway leading to Solitude proper. He was beginning to think that he could just go with this, and then leave when he saw the Justicar going to each group while asking questions in an officious tone.

Damn it. _Damn it._ The illusion spell on his ring would not hold up under the close regard of a Thalmor mage. He had to get out of here. And he could not reveal his identity as Dragonborn either, so that meant that shouts were out of the picture.

The only thing he hadn’t done to piss off the Thalmor was breaking the White-Gold Concordant, and the confirmation of his identity as Dovahkiin definitely went against it. Reltheyn was reasonably confident that the Thalmor knew where he lived, but if he didn’t go against that edict, they most likely would only try to kill or arrest him when he was outside of Riften. No matter how much they may not like him, they had more significant issues than trying to capture or kill a man living in a Stormcloak aligned city.

If they had confirmation on what he was, then they would most likely make killing him a priority. He would very much like to avoid that.

He needed to get out of here, preferably before his illusion broke or was seen through. The Justicar started to move closer to his location, and he acted.

This was an idiotic plan, but it was all he had. He looked up at the precarious gargoyle he had noticed earlier and hit it with an overpowered, white-hot Fireball. The stone statue fall onto the balcony with a mighty crash, drawing everyone’s attention for a few moments

Relthreyn bolted.

He barreled through the troops guarding the archway and hurriedly cast ebonyflesh – he was going to need it - on himself, wincing a little at the drain on his magic. Unfortunately, he was now down most of his magic. There was a reason why he rarely used the spell, it took up a lot of magic unless the caster mastered it, and he was by no means a master of alteration. On cue, a firebolt impacted his shoulder.

Thankfully, he was a master at taking magical attacks, with his tendency to use himself as bait. As long as he avoided the arrows, he should be able to get out of the city. The universe then proved that it hated him because an arrow whizzed by his face, nearly slicing into his ear.

He cursed and ran faster. He _really_ wished he had his armor.

He couldn’t leave through the gates; that would be a death sentence. This meant that the only option was – He ducked another arrow, ran through a small throng of citizens to their displeasure, and made for Castle Dour.

He sprinted up to the ramparts flinching as his magical armor diminished under a few more bolts of magic. He couldn’t renew it, not yet. Directing himself over to where the gargoyle statue used to be, he risked a look back and immediately regretted it as he saw the guards and thalmor on his tail.

Every time he was in proximity of this city, something terrible happened. First the Embassy, then Naya’s curse, and now this. He was never coming back here again.

To the delight of his pursuers, he ran for the corner where the ramparts met a tower. Unfortunately for his pursuers, he clambered on top of the wall and jumped down to the lower walkway. He had to escape before he got seriously injured, he already had a myriad of nicks on him, and he wasn’t going to get lucky forever. 

Once again, he climbed on top of the walls and looked down at the long drop below. He chanced one more glance at the guards, renewed his ebonyflesh, and jumped into the waters below.

His magical armor broke upon impact with the frigid waves. Gasping at the cold, he swam for the shoreline as quickly as he could. His magic was nearly depleted, he was both wet and amorless, and he had to get across the entire province in quick order.

He dragged himself onto the rocky shore, used that rest of his magic on a minor healing spell, and forced himself into a steady jog across the northern swamplands. As he ran, he removed the ring, relieving himself of the constant magical drain.

He had to get as much distance as possible between himself and Solitude before the sun went down.

* * *

**Naya XXVIII**

For all the hype surrounding them, dragons had not been as big as an issue as she thought they would be. Oddly enough, there had not been any attacks on any of the major cities. At least not any that she had heard of. They were definitely present and doing draconic things like taking over mountains, attacking travelers, and hoarding precious items, but it could certainly be worse. Naya was not complaining – she lived in the distinctly flammable Riften. A potentially fire-breathing dragon, a nigh-pyromaniacal Dragonborn, and a wooden city (even if it was built over a lake) would be a terrible combination.

The vampires, on the other hand…

Naya ducked under an ice spell and pushed an older woman out of the way of a bloody red stream of magic, the drain life effect proving useless against the light of her Blessing. She spotted a pair of children cowering against the wall and raced towards the, a ward spell in hand.

They were becoming a problem.

They attacked at sundown. They were a large coven – two master vampires, four mist walkers, three fledglings, and five thralls. Usually, even fifteen would not be much of a problem for the many guards and some citizens to deal with. Unfortunately, this attack had been well-planned. From what Naya had put together, the barracks had a sort of sleep spell on them that bewitched any who walked in. So, the guards were out of commission, and most of the citizens were wisely hiding or running away.

She pushed more magic into her shimmering barrier and kneeled in front of the two orphans. She cast healing hands on them, closing the minor cuts and abrasions on their skin before speaking.

“I’m going to get you two to the orphanage. Follow me.”

Seeing them nod, Naya drew Dawnbreaker from its sheath – Relthreyn hadn’t brought it with him – and engaged the fledgling that approached thinking that a woman and two children would be an easy target. Naya was about as gifted in sword fighting as Relthreyn was in restoration, but all she had to do to kill the vampire with this blade was stab it. And she did, ducking under an ice spell and stabbing the creature in the arm. He went up in flames and started to retreat. She stabbed him again, this time through the heart.

Naya ushered the (hopefully untraumatized) children from their hiding place against the wall, and recast her ward to block a stray spell. They made for the orphanage, avoiding the main areas of conflict. Quite frankly, it looked like the vampires were losing – she caught a glimpse of a pair of thieves ganging up on a mist walker, of the blacksmith utterly destroying one of the thralls, and of a khajiit with claws extended taking on another.

They made it to the orphanage unscathed, the children rushing in the door. Naya quickly left for the marketplace where the main sounds of conflict were coming from.

She made it there just in time to see Brynjolf, of all people, take down one of the master vampires with a startlingly efficient display of violence that Relthreyn would have appreciated had he been present. She’d become too used to the thief conning people out of money daily in the marketplace – she’d never even seen him with a weapon in sight before. She’d only really spoken to the man in a business setting; he was the one who she spoke to about her affiliation with the Guild after she had healed Etienne. She never really got the impression of someone who was combat-oriented from him, but apparently, she had been wrong.

Naya ran towards him, seeing two of the fledglings make for him, and activated her Blessing. The light scalded the two vampires, forcing them to withdraw with a hiss to find other prey. Naya did not follow them, instead choosing to cast healing magic at Brynjolf, who she could now see was favoring his right side and had a nasty looking bite mark on his upper arm through his now ruined shirt. She quickly healed his cracked ribs and burnt the vampiric infection out of his bloodstream.

“Thank you, lass.”

Naya offered a wane smile as her Blessing faded before getting down to business. He had probably been more involved in the fighting than she was, so he had more information.

“How many are left?”

“One Master, one fledgling, and two mist walkers. Four - ”

Bryjnjolf was interrupted by the distinctive sound of a rune trap being created, followed by a _shout_ of **‘FUS’** and an explosion.

“Make that three.” He raised his voice slightly. “You have excellent timing.”

“What is going on?”

Relthreyn looked terrible. His clothes were dirty and torn in a way that he usually never allowed. He had deep bags under his eye, and his hair was in loose disarray around his face instead of pulled back in the half-tail he often sported. All in all, he was a mess.

Giving him a concerned look, Naya stated the obvious. “Vampire attack. Here, take Dawnbreaker.”

He accepted the sword and her stamina restoring healing spell, before addressing both of them. “There’s one for each of us. I’ll take the Master.”

There was, indeed. The remaining vampires had gravitated towards each other and were starting to make their way to the opened gates of the town. Unfortunately – or fortunately- she, Brynjolf, and Relthreyn were directly in their way.

“I got the mist walker.” Brynjolf had already killed the other Master; she wouldn’t volunteer him for the mist walker after he did that. The man himself lifted his pair of dwarven daggers. “And that leaves the fledgling for me.”

A dagger tingling with magic was pressed into her hands by Relthreyn – he always kept bringing back gifts, she had to start returning the favor - and he broke their little standoff with a fireball aimed at the master vampire’s head.

Naya cast ironflesh on herself before engaging the mist walker with her new dagger. She ducked under her third ice spell this evening, before closing in on her and lashing out with her blade. The mist walker produced one of her own and deflected Naya’s blows. It only took her to few seconds to realize that close combat with a vampire was not a sustainable tactic- she simply was not strong enough for it. Naya activated her Blessing for the second time that night, and the vampire recoiled as golden flames ate into her flesh. As the other woman eyed her warily from a safe distance, Naya healed herself as much as she could, recast ironflesh, sheathed her dagger, and gathered magic for an unstable conjuration spell.

The mist walker took the opportunity to strike as Naya thought she would, and the spell detonated. They both were thrown in opposite directions by the spell, but Naya, unlike her foe, had been braced for the explosion and recovered first. She quickly pulled herself off the ground and threw her dagger into her dazed opponent’s heart.

Naya looked over to see Brynjolf had teamed up with Relthreyn to finish of the Master by sticking his dagger into the vampire’s back, before returning to the Mistwalker's corpse to retrieve her new weapon. She walked over to the now conversing men, hearing the end of the conversation as she approached.

“ -tomorrow. I’ll speak to Mercer for you.”

“If you insist...”

“I do insist. Get some rest.”

With that, the Nord clapped a friendly hand on Relthryn’s shoulder before disappearing in the direction of the graveyard with the ‘secret’ entrance. Relthreyn let out a forceful breath of air and leaned against the low wall surrounding the now damaged marketplace.

Naya knew that the next day would be full of reconstruction and healing efforts, but for now she just wanted to make sure that he got some rest. His mission must have been hectic, because he really looked like he needed it.

She settled against the wall beside him. "Rough trip?"

Relthreyn ran a hand over his face at her words. “You have no idea.”

Naya grasped his hand and tugged him in the direction of their house. He stumbled a little before following after her. He really did look exhausted.

“Tell me about it tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

Hands clasped, they walked through the dark streets in companionable silence. Naya pushed open the door of Honeyside and ushered him in, following him after so they could get some well-deserved rest.


	34. Contemplations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naya considers some things

**Naya XXVII**

In the morning, Naya woke before Relthreyn, which was a rarity. They had migrated to opposite sides of the bed, as was their norm in the more temperate weather of the Rift. In the initial days of moving into the house, they had shared out of necessity because there had only been one place to sleep. But even when they had gotten everything else situated, Naya had gotten used to sharing, and Relthreyn must have too because he didn’t mention anything about changing sleeping arrangements. So, neither of them moved, and the other bed remained unused by both.

Naya permitted herself a few more minutes of relaxing under the warm covers of their bed, before she slipped out from the blankets, taking care not to wake the other occupant. She made her way into the kitchen, where a fire was cracking merrily in the hearth. Iona – her housecarl – must have lit it before going the Keep as she usually did in the mornings. Naya grabbed some vegetables and a knife and started the familiar routine of cooking breakfast. Relthreyn was not a terrible cook - anything he made was perfectly palatable – but Naya always insisted on doing it when she could.

Relthreyn had been odd lately. Actually, it hadn’t started recently; it had begun when they left Windhelm. It hadn’t escaped her notice that he had been flashier than usual when fighting whatever poor soul decided to attack him, and then there were the gifts -

“Something smells good.” Train of thought derailed by Relthreyn’s comment, Naya set her knife down and started cracking a few eggs before answering. “I’m making omelets. Could you set the table for me?”

“Yeah.” She heard the cupboard creak quietly as it was opened, followed shortly by the sound of water being poured into a cup. “Anything happen while I was gone?”

“Nothing much. Besides the vampires, of course. You?” Two plates appeared beside her, and she transferred the now complete - and delicious looking if she did say so herself - omelets onto them and walked over to the table with them in hand. Relthreyn looked substantially less terrible then he did last night, to her relief. She set both plates down and sat across from him and lifted the water sitting at the table to her lips before he answered her query in a suspiciously casual tone.

“Well, nothing important besides the Emperor’s cousin getting assassinated.”

Naya choked on her drink. Coughing, she shot the very amused ass sitting across from her an irritated look – there was no way he hadn’t timed that- before spluttering out, “Do you ever get normal missions?!”

“Doesn’t look like it.”

“Well.” Naya took a bite of her omelet before continuing. “I am going to see if anyone could use a healer today.” And she was not going to think about whatever Relthreyn got up to in Solitude until she was more awake. Knowing him high profile assassination was just the tip of the iceberg.

From the amused smile on his face, Relthreyn knew what she was thinking. “You don’t want to hear about the rest of it now?”

“It's way to early to hear about your…your shenanigans.”

There was silence for a time as they both finished off their meals until it was broken by Relthreyn’s quiet chuckles.

“My shenanigans.”

“…shut up.”

* * *

Naya cut the flow of magic streaming into the Argonian in front of her. She had been correct in her assumption that today would be full of healing and reconstruction efforts. She had gone to the Temple of Mara to volunteer her services as a healer. Every time there was a significant attack on a city in Skyrim, it was the responsibility of the local priests – of College, in the case of Winterhold – to organize healing efforts. She had been assigned to the docks, which had been attacked by a small pack of Death Hounds.

Nodding her acceptance of the Agronian’s thanks, Naya’s mind drifted back to what had been bothering her about Relthreyn’s behavior as she went about healing her next patient of some nasty looking bite marks.

The weirdest thing about it was that he didn’t seem to notice what he was doing. The flashiness had appeared slowly and had grown more evident as time went on. He used bigger spells more frequently, pulled more impressive – for lack of a better word – moves when he was in close combat, and he Shouted more often than he usually did. Relthreyn generally used his Thu’um sparingly – he didn’t use it on bandits or minor threats. He usually saved it for more significant issues. Recently, he had begun to use it, not all the time, but certainly more readily.

And then there were the gifts. The very lovely gifts that were very much to her taste. Relthreyn didn’t even act like anything was unusual when he gave them to her. He either gave them to her without any aplomb, or they just appeared in ‘her’ areas of the house. And she loved the gifts. Loved the thought that he had been thinking of her when they were separate.

Maybe she was thinking about this wrong. Her time at the College came back to her mind. She had spent the majority of her time there on bedrest, so much of her entertainment had come from reading. Considering what her companion was, she had found a few books on the creatures themselves. One of them was apparently written by a Greybeard who recorded some of the teachings of his Master. That book had much insight to the Greybeards themselves, the Way of the Voice, and on dragons themselves.

Relthreyn was a Dragonborn. If she wanted to figure out what his deal was, she should start thinking about it in dragon terms, not human terms. That book hadn’t said too much on the subject – it's not like the Greybeards could directly consult a dragon, but it was more informative than any of the other ones. She needed to take what she knew about dragons and apply it to Relthreyn.

Ok. So. Everything she knew boiled down to them being very possessive, very violent, and _very_ focused on power.

Relthreyn certainly qualified for all of those traits. For one, killing the problem was much higher on his list of solutions than most peoples. He was rather…particular about his stuff. Very particular. And she used that word because Relthreyn didn’t get angry when someone stole from him. If someone was skilled enough to steal from him, then it was his fault for not catching them. Of course, that didn’t stop them from hunting the thief down and getting his stuff back, because if they weren’t strong enough to hold onto it, then that was their problem, which made a startling amount of sense, now that she was thinking about it in draconic terms. That brought her the whole ‘focus on power’ thing—the reason why he had been so restless when they were traveling. The lack of a challenge had been his real issue. He thrived when he had a chance to grow past where he used to be.

But, back to Relthreyn being particular about his stuff. He didn’t like giving things he found away, but he had no problem giving gifts to her. If she was to look at it logically, that could only mean that he -

Naya jumped and whirled at the tap on her shoulder.

“Etienne!”

The thief was laughing lightly at her surprised reaction. “Sorry for startling you.”

No, he wasn’t. Every single time he talked to her, he started the conversation by sneaking up on her.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m not. Anyways, I’m here on business.”

“Oh?”

“A couple of my colleagues were hurt during the attack. Could you lend us a hand? Or a spell, in this case.”

Naya was just about done here; she just needed to report back to the Temple.

“Yeah. I just need to stop at the Temple first.”

“I’ll walk with you?”

Naya smiled at her friend and started the trek to the Temple of Mara, Etienne walking beside her.

“Did you hear about what happened in Solitude?”

“I know about the assassination.”

“Oh, there was more than that…”

* * *

“- and then I jumped into the bay.”

She and Relthreyn were walking through the under levels of Riften’s Plankside. The city was large, much bigger than it initially seemed. The Upper Market was mainly for above-board goods, while the Lower Levels were for the less than legal activities went on. Not that they were down here to buy or sell anything, they were just walking through the city.

She wanted to be surprised about what happened during his mission, she really did, but she was not. It was more surprising when he had a standard, routine mission than a chaotic one.

“So now you really can’t go to Solitude.”

“Pretty much.”

“You don’t seem unhappy about that?”

“Every time I go anywhere near that city, something terrible happens.” He…wasn’t wrong with that assessment. Between the Thalmor Embassy, Meridia’s Temple, and the recent incident, it seemed like the Hold of Haafingar simply hated him

“So now you have an excuse to avoid it.”

“Exactly.”

“So how was your actual mission anyhow? I’ve only heard about what happened after.”

As Relthreyn launched into the story, Naya’s mind drifted back to the idea that had been forming in her head since last night. He’d been giving her gift, but she hadn’t done anything in return. By the sounds of his mission, he was closing in on the culprit behind the Guild’s decline, so he would probably be leaving again soon. So, that meant she had to make her a gift for him by the end of the day.

She already knew what she was going to make, and it would be challenging to finish it all in an afternoon, but she could do it.

* * *

She was right. Midway through the next day, Relthreyn told her that he had yet another mission, this time with the Guildmaster himself. While he was packing, she decided to broach the subject. Fiddling with the necklace around her throat, she spoke quietly. “You’ve been bringing me gifts...”

Relthreyn paused in his packing and turned to face her, an unreadable expression on his face. “I have.”

By his expression or lack thereof, the gifts were more important than she’d initially thought.

“I…” Her words failed her. She knew what she wanted to say, but not how she wanted to say it. Relthreyn seemed to understand – he always seemed to do that – because he spoke through her silence.

“When I get back.”

“What?” 

“The gifts. Let’s talk about it when I get back?”

So that they didn’t have to rush through the conversation, that would be a good idea. If that conversation was going to go where she thought – hoped – that it was going to go, then it wasn’t one that could be rushed.

She nodded, feeling anxious about the entire situation. It wasn’t just the gifts that were making her uneasy, it was Relthreyn’s leaving with Mercer. It just felt off to her. Why would the Guildmaster go with the newest member in the Guild, no matter how involved with the investigation? Why wouldn’t he bring someone with more seniority? Why would he just bring one other to confront this mysterious Karliah?

Relthreyn finished packing, and they both made their way out the gates, to the stables outside of the city. Naya spoke up as Relthreyn finished up the process of saddling and checking up on his horse.

“Wait. Here.” She held out a simple leather bracelet with carved wooden beads that were glimmering with restoration magic. “For healing. Just channel magic into it.”

He took it into his grasp and looped it around his left wrist after turning it around in his hands a few times.

“Thank you, Naya.”

She pulled him into an embrace, her uneasiness growing as the minutes progressed. He gently disentangled himself from her after a few moments and rested his hands upon her shoulders.

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

She couldn’t go with him, but her magic could. It would be enough. It had to be.


	35. Speaking With Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relthreyn has a bad time. Naya has a bad time. Answers are searched for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just started college so I can't update near as fast. I'll try to shoot for once a month, but I can't make any promises.

**Relthreyn XXIX**

The stabbing pain of the arrow buried in his chest had nothing on the burning cold of the poison coursing through his veins. He vaguely heard Mercer conversing with Karliah as he focused in on the bracelet Naya had given him, trying to direct his sluggish magic into the enchanted bracelet. His concentration was broken as he heard a sword unsheathe.

Mercer was starring down at him, sword in hand, a victorious expression on his face.

"How interesting. It appears Gallus's history has repeated itself. Karliah has provided me with the means to be rid of you, and this ancient tomb becomes your final resting place. But do you know what intrigues me the most? The fact that this was all possible because of you. Farewell. I'll be certain to give Brynjolf your regards."

Relthreyn barely had time to process Mercer’s gloating before the man stabbed him. The arrow, combined with Mercer’s enchanted blade, elevated the pain from merely terrible to agonizing.

Anger pierced through his haze of pain, but Relthreyn pushed it aside. For now. He had to live through this; then he could rage all he wanted. He refused to die here. Not because of his destiny, or even to get revenge on Mercer. He had someone to go back to. That meant more than anything else.

Desperately, he forced his magic into the bracelet around his wrist as the world faded out.

**Naya XXVIII**

Naya had a white-knuckled grip on the pendant of the necklace Relthreyn had given her, focusing all of her senses onto the wavering pulses of magic coming from it.

He was dying, she realized distantly.

She wasn’t with him, and he was dying. Her grip tightened. She lost track of time, so single-minded was her focus on the pendant, fearing the moment the enchantment would dissipate. Unexpectedly, the magic of the steadied out instead of dying. She stared down at the necklace, hope rising within her. It was steady, constant, though very weak. She loosened her grip on the necklace, relief coursing through her.

Naya couldn’t imagine what her life would have been like if she hadn’t met him. Actually, she could. It wasn’t a possibility she liked to think about. Even if she had managed to escape, she would have been a wreck without him. He was reliable, steady. Even with the homicidal tendencies, he was constant in a way that she needed. But more importantly than that, he was present in a way that she _wanted_. A way that she loved.

Relthreyn dying was one (horrible) thing. For him to die without her telling him how she felt because she was too scared or too busy ignoring her feelings to say anything was even worse. Losing him would already be terrible without the what-could-have-been.

But he was alive. That meant he would be back. And she would tell him when he was.

Naya pulled herself out of her now-uncomfortable position. Now that she could think past her emotions, there was one thing about this whole that was bothering her. Naya knew exactly what Relthreyn was capable of. A crypt and a possibly psychotic ex-guild member were undoubtedly within his capabilities. While a dragur or something might have nearly killed him, it wasn’t very likely. Especially if he had a competent companion, and he did, in the form of Mercer Frey.

It was Mercer that concerned her. She thought that her disquiet over Rethreyn traveling to Snow Veil Sanctum was merely the product of her worries, but maybe there was something tangible to them. She just couldn’t get past the sense that there was something off about the fact that Mercer had chosen Relthreyn to go with him instead of a more senior member of the Guild.

Hopefully, she was just paranoid, but if Mercer were suspect in something, she would have to be very careful not to let anyone know that she knew Relthreyn was alive unless she needed their help.

* * *

Three nerve-racking days later, with no Relthreyn in sight, Naya heard a knock at her door midway through the afternoon. Half hoping it would be her erstwhile companion, she opened it to see an uncharacteristically grave Brynjolf.

She pushed her pang of disappointment aside and welcomed him. “Brynjolf? Come in, have a seat.”

She had a feeling this was about whatever had happened to Relthreyn. But until she knew more about the situation, she would act like she suspected nothing. She liked Brynjolf and didn’t think he did anything, but she was a firm believer in discretion being the better part of valor.

The man looked uncertain for a moment, before seemingly coming to a decision and spoke in a somber tone. “Relthreyn didn’t make it back from Snow Veil Sanctum. Mercer returned alone.”

He fell silent at that, waiting for her reaction.

Well. Mercer definitely had something to do with this.

Naya studied Brynjolf for a moment. If she wanted to figure out what Mercer’s deal was, she was going to need help. And Brynjolf would be very helpful, indeed. Seeing the genuine distress on his face, she decided to go for broke and be honest.

“He’s not dead.”

“Lass - “

She shook her head, cutting his words short. “I’m not in some grief-stricken denial, Brynjolf. Look.” She pulled the necklace Relthreyn had given her all those months ago. It was still pulsating with magic. He held out his hand in question, and Naya reluctantly handed it over. As he inspected it with an expert eye, she continued.

“This is part of a pair. He has the other one. If he died, the enchantment would’ve gone dormant. He’s not dead. And if he’s alive, that means that -”

“- Mercer is lying.”

“You believe me?” She had half-expected that he’d find her delusional.

“I’m not particularly gifted in any of the schools, but I know enchantments. I’ve been around Relthreyn often enough to be able to recognize his magic.”

That explained it. If he knew enchantment as well as she now thought he did, then he would understand that enchantments keyed to a specific person always faded upon that person’s death. Naya almost spared a moment to be surprised about his magic know-how, but ultimately didn’t. He was a thief, who knows what he had gotten up to in the past. Besides, enchantment sensing would be a useful skill for his profession.

Brynjolf sat back into his chair, looking up at the ceiling as he processed the realization. She spoke again, breaking him out of his meditative state. “What are you going to do?”

“I need to go to Snow Veil Sanctum. I don’t know why Mercer would lie about this. I have to see things for myself.”

At his words, Naya felt her fear and worry give way to determination.

“I think you mean _we_ are going.”

“We?”

She could see the surprise on his face. It was true that she wasn’t one to deliberately court danger, but nothing would stop her from going after Relthreyn. She knew that he was alive, but that didn’t change the fact that he had almost died. She needed to see him with her own two eyes to be sure that he was okay. More than that, if he was somewhere safe, he wouldn’t stay that way for long, and she would prefer to be with him when this situation inevitably came to a head.

“If you think I’m going to sit in Riften while you go investigate whatever Relthreyn got himself into, then you’re not half as smart as I thought you were.”

A roguish grin crossed the thief’s face at her words, reminding Naya of why so many people fell for his charms, and he stood and started to make his way to the door.

“In that case, I’ll see you at the gates in a few hours.”

* * *

Traveling with Brynjolf was different than what she was used to. It wasn’t horrible per se, but between her worry and the fact that she didn’t know the Nord that well and therefore, didn’t trust him all that much, it was a very exhausting trip. She couldn’t sleep. Even the bone-deep weariness that came with hard travel didn’t do much to help with that. The trip did, however, prove her theory that Relthreyn was some kind of black hole that only attracted danger. She and Brynjolf only got attacked _twice_ over the four-day trip. She found that she missed the usual chaos, no matter how much she usually bemoaned it.

They came upon the crypt in the evening and decided to camp out until the morning. Necromantic magic was always more powerful when the moons were out, no matter the location. Only the desperately stupid or stupidly desperate entered Nordic ruins night. She and Brynjolf huddled around a spluttering fire and ate a rather bland meal of dried meat and hardtack. It seemed that lackluster travel rations were something that crossed universal boundaries. Brynjolf spoke across the fire, brogue more pronounced from fatigue.

“Will you be able to find him from here?”

Naya, who had been drifting off, perked up slightly at his words. “Hmm?”

“After we go through the ruins. Will you be able to track him?”

“Yeah.” Naya pulled out her necklace and channeled her magic into it. It warmed slightly on its northwestern point. “They’re somewhere in the direction of Winterhold.”

She wanted to skip the ruins and find him directly, but she understood that Brynjolf needed to go through the ruins to try and piece together what happened. It’s not every day that your Guildmaster may have turned out to be a murderous traitor. They both fell silent at that brief exchange, both too tired for more conversation. As the fire died down, Naya tugged her blanket tight around herself and curled into a ball on her bedroll. They would enter the crypt at dawn.

* * *

Snow Veil Sanctum was a rather unremarkable ruin, with the exception of the numerous traps. They followed the trail of collapsed and occasionally incinerated dragur until they reached the innards of the ruins, where the catacombs were.

“Oh, Relthreyn was definitely here.”

It looked like a bomb had gone off. The walls were scorched, and there were various piles of vile-smelling remains that could only be from Deathlords. She was counting six, seven, eight, nine. Nine Deathlords and one Scrounge. Yes, he was definitely here. No one else had luck that terrible.

“You think this is where he was injured?”

Naya swept her eye over the room one more time before shaking her head. “No. His Destruction is powerful enough for this, especially if he had some else to watch his back. Besides, if he were nearly killed by dragur, then Mercer would have no reason to lie.”

Brynjolf nodded, accepting her explanation, and they pressed onwards until they got into a vast, grandiose room. A vast, grandiose room with a suspicious-looking bloodstain on the floor near the entrance.

They exchanged a look. Bingo.

Brynjolf kneeled by it, inspecting it closer. “That’s Dunmer blood.”

How on Earth – Nirn, whatever – did he know that? First enchantments, and now this? At her _look,_ Brynjolf smirked slightly and offered no explanation. Because of course, he wouldn’t—no need to ruin his ‘mysterious rouge’ mystique after all.

He took a closer glance at it. “There’s more. Here.”

Naya drew closer to him, seeing the faint hints of red on the floor, leading across the floor until it stopped entirely just before the stairs.

“They were pursuing Karliah.”

“Karliah?”  
  


“She’s the traitor. She killed the previous master, Gallus. I don’t suppose you noticed all of those traps on the way in?”

Naya had. She nodded.

“That was had to be Karliah. I didn’t know her for long, but she excels in traps and archery.” He stopped abruptly, a distant look on his face as he sifted through faded memories. “Mercer’s is an excellent swordsman. If she were smart, she would have used her bow.”

Judging by those traps, Karliah was plenty smart. Taking another look at the blood, Naya decided to add her two cents.

“There’s too much blood here for an arrow wound. Even a severe one.”

Unspoken was the fact that is Karliah hadn’t shot him, Mercer had to have stabbed him. Possibly both. Karliah or no, the fact remained that Relthreyn had more than likely been stabbed, somehow made his way out the tomb and that Mercer was lying about what happened here. At best, Mercer had turned against one of his own. At worst…well. If he was lying about this, then who knew what else he had concealed?

By the look on Brynjolf’s face, he agreed with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost made her actually think that he was dead, but that version just didn't go anywhere. So then I was like, why have angst when there can be plot. So this version happend.


	36. Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunions are had. An important Talk is also had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late. I'm sorry. As things are going right now, I'm either going to get out some very short chapters on the weekends or I'm going to wait until my Winter Break and get out a few longer chapters.
> 
> In other news, writing romance is hard. Writing feelings are hard. This chapter fought me from start to finish.
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy

**Relthreyn XXX**

Relthreyn let out a gusty exhale and immediately regretted it as the lancing pain in his side once again made itself known.

His burning desire to violently end Mercer Frey was only eclipsed by his gnawing worry for Naya.

He could feel the magic of his paired necklace pulsing every so often, so he knew that she was following after him. The only other thing he knew was that she most likely was aware of his brush with death.

He could only imagine what she must be feeling right now. If she was dying and all he could do was simply bear witness through an enchanted necklace?

In all honesty, he’d probably set something on fire. But he would be no less devastated for it. 

HIs necklace pulsed again, stronger this time.

He stopped walking and called out to his impromptu rescuer.

“Karliah, we need to stop for the evening.”

His impromptu rescuer would not be happy with his announcement, he was sure, but judging by his necklace, Naya was settling close and he’d rather remain stationary when she was so close..

Karliah was aware that they were being tracked, and while Relthreyn had wanted to meet Naya halfway, but other Dunmer had insisted that they make for Winterhold. Relthreyn had reluctantly agreed - with his wounds, the sooner he could get actual shelter the better, and he owed Karliah besides.

So despite the possible issues that could come from going back to Winterhold that he hadn’t told Karliah about yet, they were headed towards the city.

Naya would want him to focus on getting better first, as well. He could already imagine the lecture he would receive if he went haring off across Skyrim to reunite with her before he was completely healed.

His temporary companion stopped at him words, but before she could speak, his name echoed across the landscape along with a tell-tale pulse of his necklace.

He turned to see Naya coming over the snow covered ridge, Brynjolf - what was he doing here? - in tow. She was grasping her necklace tightly, metallic eyes wide as she started at him. She broke out of her shock, and a disbelieving smile grew on her face as she approached him as quickly as she could without falling on the icy ground. She stopped inches from him, eyes flicking up and down his form. 

“You’re hurt.”

She was bundled up tightly against the snow, he noted with relief-tinged amusement, like she always was when he couldn't act as her personal heater. He knew how much she hated being cold.

When was the last time she slept? She looked exhausted.

Azura above, he had missed her. 

He abruptly pulled her into his embrace, ignoring the stabbing pain his actions caused.

He heard her exhale shakily as she buried herself into his chest, and pulled him to her just as tightly. The gnawing ache that had been his constant companion for the past week eased.

A gust of wind interrupted their reverie, prompting them both to shiver and separate though they still kept close, hands clasped together both unwilling to let the other go.

Wanting to set up camp so he could talk to Naya, Rethreyn turned to see Brynjolf and Karliah engaged in a dramatic stare-down. Deciding that tact was for lesser mortals, he cut through their tension with the subtlety of a mammothless giant.

“Naya and I are going to set up camp while you two do… whatever it is you’re doing.”

At his words Naya started walking towards a nearby grove of trees that would serve nicely as shelter, her hand still clasped in his. Relthreyn followed, content.

* * *

Her magic was a familiar, comforting warmth. His wounds were down to a dull ache rather than the stabbing pain he had become unfortunately accustomed to. 

“So… about that talk.”

He couldn’t help it. He huffed out a laugh. Figures, after the past months of Naya being oblivious to any and all of his advances, she would be the one to point out the mammoth in the room. There were about a hundred other things that they could, and probably should, talk about but Naya seemed quite determined. That, and she wanted a distraction from the visceral details of how he had almost meant his end. Relthreyn would have liked to spare her the details, but he knew that she would appreciate knowing the story in its entirety. 

Brynjolf and Karliah had yet to join them in the campsite, and he and Naya had spent the intervening time catching each other up on what had happened in the other’s absence as Naya patched him up.

Karliah, while an exceptional alchemist and archer, was not accomplished in restoration.

Relthreyn forcefully tamped down his sudden nervousness.

Talking about his near-death experience at the hands of his guildmaster? Not a problem. 

Confessing his feelings to a woman that he was in love with was an entirely different story.

“That talk about gifts?”

“Yes. Yes. the gifts.”

Naya was practically vibrating out of her skin with nervous energy at her question, and he wasn’t much better himself despite his outward composure. She braced herself, before just diving into it.

“It's just. Relthreyn, if a man spent months bringing me presents, I would assume that they were... _romantically inclined_ towards me. Or they were trying to _court_ me or something.”

Here it was. The moment of truth. Under the tone of forced lightness, she sounded almost... hopeful. Feeling cautiously optimistic, Relthreyn spoke in a deliberately casual tone. 

“Speaking as a man who is ‘romantically inclined’ to you, I’d say courting is _exactly_ what I am doing.”

She froze. He chanced a look over at her face. She was blushing, her lips parted slightly in surprise. 

“I…”

Relthreyn allowed himself some hope. That was not a no. But he had to be sure.

“Would you like me to stop?”

She shook her head vigorously, her nervous energy apparent in the motion.

“No. No, no. I just.”

She inhaled and exhaled deliberately, and forcefully calmed herself before continuing.

“I like it. Like _you_ , I mean. Romantically.”

It was telling that he found her awkwardness endearing. He smiled, feeling lighter than he had in weeks. He stood up, wounds aching fiercely. He ignored it. He would take a hundred more swords to the chest if it meant he could have this.

Naya spoke again before he could draw nearer to her. “...Wait. How long have you…?”

“A little after Windhelm.”

She froze for a moment, obviously casting her mind over their interactions since they left that icy wasteland of a city. Relthreyn had to suppress a laugh at the embarrassment that grew on her face.

“...I’m such an idiot. You weren’t even subtle about it…”

Relthreyn couldn’t keep help but start to chuckle at her words, and completely lost it at her reaction to his amusement.

“It's not funny!”

It was very funny.

“Stop laughing at me!” 

He laughed harder, ignoring the renewed ache that his amusement caused. He took the final few steps into her space before gently cupping her cheek with his hand. She angled her head up to his in response, the atmosphere deepening into something new. Something intimate.

He spoke, voice low. Warm.

“May I kiss you?”

She nodded. 

It was not a passionate exploration. It was simple. Chaste.

It was a perfect beginning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 36 chapters and 73,445 words in and they finally kiss. 
> 
> Next chapter will include talking about their actual relationship, like addressing the age difference between the two among other things as well as advancing in the Thieves Guild quest line


	37. Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go to Winterhold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive. My break is going to last for a while, so I hope to get two or three chapters out by January. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy.

**Naya XXIX**

Naya was quietly enjoying the warmth emanating from her...boyfriend? That didn’t sound right - partner, maybe? 

She let out a wheezy puff of breath at the thought - the cold weather was not doing her any favors - but her burgeoning annoyance at the thought immediately softened when she felt the familiar swell of fire magic come from Relthreyn. 

They were situated in front of the spluttering fire, his back against a tree, and her back against his chest. He was dozing slightly, despite the magic manipulation, the rise and fall of his chest a comforting feeling. She still wasn’t quite over the thought of him nearly dying - she would never be content with even the thought of that happening again.

She didn’t feel like anything had changed - merely like what they had had grown deeper. She was still a little nervous about this, but who wouldn’t be? A new relationship always had some level of uncertainty, no matter how solid the preexisting dynamic was.

Naya hadn’t been big on the romantic scene, but she’d had a few boyfriends in the past, though only one of those had been serious. Even just sitting against Relthreyn felt deeper than much of what she had experienced with another person.

Of course, circumstances had forced them close to each other from the very beginning. Relthreyn knew her better than anyone alive, and she was reasonably certain that he knew him better than most anyone as well. That was probably why even this felt more intimate than anything she’d shared with another in the past.

Speaking of the past, how old was Relthreyn, anyways? She knew that he was rather young for a Dunmer, but she had never actually asked. After a pause, she did just that.

She felt him take a slightly deeper breath as he answered.

“163. 164, come Hearthfire.”

She shivered as a gust of wind howled through the clearing. 

Wow. That was.... Intellectually, Naya knew that Relthreyn, as a Mer, was most likely much older than she, but this was the first time she’d actually heard it. 

It wasn’t the difference in age that took her aback, she didn’t care too much about that. It was the difference in life experience. He must have seen so much more than her,  _ experienced  _ so much more…

At that thought, her mood dimmed.  _ She _ would live to that age, assuming she didn’t get herself killed. She’d live far beyond that. She had spent much of her energy on reconciling herself with the fact that Nirn was now her home, but she hadn’t really thought beyond that. Not until now.

“How do you deal with it?”

“Deal with what?”

Naya twisted around in his arms so that she could face him. His eyes were a bloody burgundy in the firelight, intent on her as she voiced her thoughts.

“Living for so long...I mean, I’ll live as long as you, but I wasn’t born that way. I’ve never had to think about living for centuries before I came here.”

Relthreyn leaned back into the tree they were resting against as he began to formulate a response, though his grip on her had tightened slightly at the beginning of her statement.

“I try to think of what I gain, not what I’ll lose.”

Naya mulled his words over for a moment, before settling back to her previous position against his chest. 

Think in terms of gain? Enjoy what was good while she had it, mourn for it when it was gone, but still be willing to look towards the future. She could do that. 

The thought of experience still bothered her. He still had over a century of life on her, and knowing him, it was likely an adventurous one - why would someone who had experienced so many wondrous things settle on her?

His voice brought her out of her self-deprecating reverie. 

“And if you’re thinking about this…” He made a gesture in the scant space between them.  “We’re in this together, and if there’s if there’s one thing we have, it's time to figure this out.” 

He was right. They were in whatever  _ this _ would end up as. Besides, she wasn’t giving him the credit he deserved by thinking like that; she couldn’t imagine Relthreyn settling on anything.

She was about to respond to him when the crunch of snow underneath boots pervaded the campsite.

**Relthreyn XXXI**

Naya was very expressive, and Relthreyn was very good and reading her. So he was reasonably certain that he knew what she was thinking about - namely, negative thoughts about herself, and her worth which made him wish that he knew necromancy so he could resurrect and kill those bandits all over again. Unfortunately Brynjolf and Karliah decided to make their appearance before anything more could be said.

  
  


Relthreyn disentangled himself from a reluctant Naya to move closer to the fire, though he still stayed near her. By the look on his fellow thieves' faces, the good mood he had been in for the past half-hour or so was about to vanish.

Brynjolf spoke, uncharacteristically blunt. “Mercer is going to die for this. We just need to bring proof for the Guild. They won’t take my word for it, but they will believe in Gallus’s journal if I vouch for it.”

Karliah took up the conversational gambit next. “After we go to Winterhold - “

Winterhold? Karliah had kept mum about where they were going, and he had been too focused on healing and too preoccupied with his worry for what was happening to ask. That had clearly been an oversight on his part. 

Naya must have been thinking the same thing as he, as she sat up straighter at Karliah’s words. “Winterhold? We’re going to Winterhold?” She turned to face him. “Can you go to Winterhold without getting arrested?”

That was a good question…“It depends on if the Thalmor are there or not. As long as I don’t get too close, I should be fine.”

“The ring?”

Brynjolf’s slightly perturbed voice cut off his response. “Is there something we should know about Winterhold?”

Relthreyn exchanged a look with Naya. They’d managed to keep his previous adventures quiet, but that was before he knew that they were going to Winterhold

“I managed to annoy the Thalmor - ” He saw Naya huff out an amused breath of air at his word choice “ - some months ago.”

“What do you mean by annoy.”

“That is a long story.”

Naya, apparently not in the mood for word games, interjected.

“They want him dead.”

“That seems a bit more severe than annoyance.” Karliah enunciated, looking more irritated than he’d ever seen her in their brief acquaintance.

“Look, I can’t go to Solitude, Whiterun, or Winterhold, at least not without disguising myself. Ulfric Stormcloak probably wouldn’t want me in his city until after I’ve taken care of Alduin - “

“Alduin? You’re the  _ Dragonborn _ \- “

He blithely trampled over Brynjolf’s exclamation, and continued.

“- so that rules out Windhelm… as long as I avoid the Thalmor in Markarth, I should be fine. So… I can go to Morthal, Dawnstar, and possibly Falkreath and Markarth if I keep a low profile.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask, but what did you do to be banned from four of the seven major cities?”

He exchanged yet another look with Naya, before they turned back to the duo.

“That is a  _ very _ long story.”

* * *

Brynjolf, as the only one even semi-comfortable with the climate due to his nordic heritage, took watch in the coldest part of the night.

Relthreyn and Naya had pushed their bedrolls together, as was their custom in such weather, and Naya had promptly passed out once they had settled in for rest. The cold was especially aggravating towards his injuries, so sleep was not coming to him so easily, but he was less annoyed by that fact than he would be otherwise. Naya could only push so much magic into his system before she had to stop lest his body reject it. That was the thing about Restoration - if the injury or malady wasn’t fresh, then healing took much longer than it would otherwise.

The only thing he liked about the freezing climate of northern Skyrim was that he and Naya could share a sleeping space without her getting overheated. Being Dunmer, he emanated more heat than any of the other races, and Naya certainly seemed to appreciate that. As if agreeing with him, the currently sleeping woman burrowed closer to him. He could not wait until this situation was resolved, so that they could properly pursue what was growing between them.

This was different, now that everything was out in the open. He’d always been very aware of the intimacy that came with sleeping wrapped around another person. In those early days of knowing Naya, he had been intensely aware of everything - he hadn’t wanted to accidentally do something she wasn’t comfortable with. He had very much noticed the understandable wariness she had held towards him at the time. 

Now, with everything they had gone through together, and with their feelings out in the open, something as simple as this had more meaning to him. He was very aware of it, not because of any boundaries, but because he knew that she welcomed him across them. A privilege that no one else on Nirn shared.

If he had his way, this would be a privilege that only he would have. Just as he wanted this to be something that only she would have, and no other.

Even considering the ever-looming threat of Alduin and the more immediate threat of Mercer, this was far from the worst situation he had been in. He would even venture to say that this chain of events was one of the better ones. Maybe even the best, because of what he had gained.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I've got plans to rewrite this in the future. I'm either going to finish this entire fic and then rewrite it, or finish the Alduin plot line, and rewrite it before I go into the Civil War. The plot would be the same, but the writing would be hopefully better.


	38. The Rewrite - NOT A CHAPTER

I've decided to stop Pathfinder here and devote my attention to the rewrite. I will be updating the rewrite every Friday. I'm sorry for ending this fic here, but I just couldn't continue in light of all the mistakes I've made in this one. This was the first fictional thing I've ever written, and I've learned a lot while writing it. Hopefully, the rewrite will be that much better.

I hope y'all have a wonderful December. 


End file.
